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Bv CHARLOTTE M. YONGE, 


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The Heiress of Hilldrop; 

OR, 

THE ROMANCE OF A YOUNG GIRL. . 

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LOVE AND LIFE 


AN OLD STORY IN EIGHTEENTH CENTURY COSTUME. 


BY 


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CHARLOTTE' M. YONGE. 


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CHARLOTTE M. YONGE^S WORKS 

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NO. 

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275 The Three Brides 

535 Henrietta’s Wish 

5()3 The Two Sides of the Shield .... 
640 Nuttie’s Father 

665 The Dove in the Eagle’s Nest .... 

666 My Young Alcides ...... 

739 The Caged Lioiv^ ..... 

742 Love and Life 


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PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. 


The first edition of this tale was put forth without ex- 
plaining the old fable on which it was founded — a fable 
recurring again and again in fairy myths, though not 
traceable in the classic world till a very late period, when 
it appeared among the tales of Apuleius, of the province of 
Africa, sometimes called the earliest novelist. There are, 
however, fragments of the same story in the popular tales 
of all countries, so that it is probable that Apuleius availed 
himself of an early form of one of these. They are to be 
found from India to Scandinavia, adapted to the manners 
and fancy of every country in turn. “ Beauty and the 
Beast and the “ Black Bull of Norroway are the most 
familiar forms of the tale; and it seemed to me one of those 
legends of such universal property that it was quite fair to 
put it into eighteenth-century-English co^ume. 

Some have seen in it a remnant of the custom of some 
barbarous tribes, that the wife should not behold her hus- 
band for a year after marriage, and to this the Indian ver- 
sions lend themselves; but, Apuleius himself either found 
it, or adapted it to the idea of the-^oul (the Life) awakened 
by Love, grasping too soon and impatiently, then losing it, 
and, unable to rest, struggling on through severe toils and 
labors till her hopes are crowned even at the gates of death. 
Psyche, the soul or life, whose emblem is the butterfly, 
thus even in heathen philosophy strained toward the higher 
Love, just glimpsed at for awhile. 

Christians gave a higher meaning to the fable, and saw 


vi PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. 

in it the Soul, or the Church, to whom her Bridegroom 
has been for awhile made known, striving after Him 
through many trials, to be made one with Him after pass- 
ing through Death. The Spanish poet Calderon made it 
the theme of two sacred dramas, in which the lesson of 
Faith, not Sight, was taught, with special reference to the 
Holy Eucharist. 

English poetry has, however, only taken up its simple 
classical aspect. In the early part of the century, Mrs. 
Tighe wrote a poem in Spenserian stanza, called ‘‘ Psyche, 
which was much admired at the time; and Mr. Morris has 
more lately sung the story in his ‘‘Earthly Paradise. 
This must be my excuse for supposing the outline of the 
tale to be familiar to most readers. 

The fable is briefly thus: — 

Venus was jealous of the beauty of a maiden named 
Psyche, the youngest of the three daughters of a king. 
She sent misery on the land and family, and caused an 
oracle to declare that the only remedy was to deck his 
youngest daughter as a bride, and leave her in a lonely 
place to become the prey of a monster. Cupid was com- 
missioned by his mother to destroy her. He is here repre- 
sented not as a child, but as a youth, who, on seeing 
Psyche’s charm^ became enamored of her, and resolved to 
save her from his mother and make her his own. He 
therefore caused . Zephyr to transport her to a palace M^hei*e 
everything delightful and valuable was at her service, feasts 
spread, music playing, all her wishes fulfilled, but all by 
invisible hands. At night in the dark, she was conscious 
of a presence who called himself her husband, sliowed the 
fondest affection for her, and promised her all sorts of 
glory and bliss, if she would be patient and obedient for a 
time. 

This lasted till yearnings awoke to see her family. She 
obtained consent with much difficulty and many warnings. 
Then the splendor in which she lived excited the jealousy 


tUEPACE TO THE SECOKD EDITION. vii 

of lier sisters, and they persuaded her that her visitor was 
really tlie monster who would deceive her and devour her. 
They thus induced her to accept a lamp with which to gaze 
on him when asleep. She obeyed them, then beholding 
the exquisite beauty of the sleeping god of love, she hung 
over him in rapture till a drop of the hot oil fell on bis 
shoulder and awoke him. He sprung up, sorrowfully re- 
proached her with having ruined herself and him, and flew 
away, letting her fall as she clung to him. 

The palace was broken up, the wrath of Venus pursued 
her; Ceres and all the other deities chased her from their 
temples; even when she would liave drowned herself, the 
river god took her in his arms, and laid her on the bank. 
Only Pan had pity on her, and counseled her to submit to 
Venus, aijd do her bidding im23licitly as the only hope of 
regaining her lost hushflnd. 

Venus spurned her at flrst, and then made her a slave, 
setting her first to sort a huge heap of every kind of grain 
in a single day. The ants, secretly commanded by Cupid, 
did this for her. Next, she was to get a lock of golden 
wool from a ram feeding in a valley closed in by inaccessi- 
ble rocks; but this was procured for her by an eagle; and 
lastly, Venus, declaring that her own beauty had been im- 
paired by attendance on her injured son, commanded 
Psyche to visit the Infernal Eegions and obtain from Pro- 
serpine a closed box of cosmetic which was on no account to 
be opened. Psyche thought death alone could bring her 
to these realms, and was about to throw herself from a 
tower, when a voice instructed her how to enter a cavern, 
and propitiate Cerberus, with cakes after the approved 
fashion. 

She thus reached Proserpine’s throne, and obtained the 
casket, but when she had again reached the earth, she re- 
flected that if Venus’s beauty were impaired by anxiety, her 
own must have suffered far more; and the prohibition hav- 
ing of course been only intended to stimulate her curiosity, 


viii PKEFACE TO THE SECOKD EDITION. 

she opened the casket, out of which came the baneful 
fumes of Death! Just, however, as she fell down over- 
powered, her husband, who had been shut up by Venus, 
came to the rescue, and finding himself unable to restore 
her, cried aloud to Jupiter, who heard his prayer, reani- 
mated Psyche, and gave her a place among the gods. 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


CHAPTER L 

A SYLLABUB PARTY. 

Oft have I shadowed such a group 
Of beauties that were born 
In tea-cup times of hood and hoop. 

And when the patch was worn; 

And legs and arms with love-knots gay, 

About me leaped and laughed 
The modish Cupid of the day, 

And shrilled his tinseled shaft. 

Tennyson. 

If times differ, human nature and national character 
vary but little; and thus, in looking back on former times, 
we are by turns startled by what is curiously like, and 
curiously unlike, our own sayings and doings. 

The feelings of a retired officer of the nineteenth century 
expecting the return of his daughters from the first gayety 
of the youngest darling, are probably not dissimilar to 
those of Major Delavie, in the earlier half of the seventeen 
hundreds, as he sat in the deep bay window of his bedroom; 
though he wore a green velvet night-cap, and his whole 
provision of mental food consisted of half a dozen worn 
numbers of the Tatler,’^ and a “ Gazette a fortnight 
old. The chair on which he sat was elbowed, and made 
easy with cushions and pillows, but that on which his lame 
foot rested was stiff and angular. The cushion was ex- 
quisitely worked in chain-stitch, as were the quilt and cur- 
tains of the great four-post bed, and the only carpeting 
consisted of three or four narrow strips of wool-work. The 
walls were of plain plaster, whitewashed, and wholly un- 
decorated, except that the mantel-piece was carved with the 
hideous caryatides of the early Stewart days, and over it 
were suspended a long cavalry saber, and the accompany- 


10 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


ing spurs and pistols; above them the miniature of an ex- 
quisitely lovely woman, with a wdiite rose in her hair and a 
white favor on her breast. 

The window was a deep one projecting far into the nar- 
row garden below, for in truth the place was one of those 
old manor houses which their wealthy owners were fast de- 
serting in favor of new specimens of classical architecture 
as understood by Louis XIV., and the room in which the 
major sat was one of the few kept in habitable repair. The 
garden was rich with white pinks, peonies, lilies of the val- 
ley, and early roses, and there was* a bagged j^atli down the 
center, between the front door and a wicket-gate into a 
long lane bordered with hawthorn hedges, the blossoms 
beginning to blush with the advance of the season. Be- 
yond, rose dimly the spires and towers of a cathedral town, 
one of those county capitals to which the provincial mag- 
nates were wont to resort during the winter, keeping a 
mansion there for the purpose, and providing entertain- 
ment for the gentry of the place and neighborhood. 

Twilight was setting in when the major began to catch 
glimpses of the laced hats of coachman and footmen over 
the hedges, a lumbering made itself heard, and by and by 
the vehicle halted at the gate. Such a coach! It was only 
the second best, and the glories of its landscape-painted 
sides were somewhat dimmed, the green and silver of the 
fittings a little tarnished to a critical eye; yet it was a 
splendid article, commodious and capacious, though ill- 
provided with air and light. However, nobody cared for 
stuffiness, certainly not the three young ladies, who, fan in 
hand, came tripping down the steps- that were unrolled for 
them. The eldest paused to administer a fee to their en- 
tertainer's servants who had brought them home, and the 
coach rolled on to dispose of the remainder of the freight. 

The father waved greetings from one window, a rosy lit- 
tle audacious figure in a night-dress peeped out furtively 
from another, and the house door was opened by a tall old 
soldier-servant, stifl: as a ramrod, with hair tightly tied and 
plastered up into a queue, and a blue and brown livery 
which sat like a uniform. 

“Well, young ladies," he said, “I hope you enjoyed 
yourselves. " 

“ Vastly, thank you, Corporal Palmer. And how has it 
been with my father in our absence?" 


*lovj: akd life. 


11 


“ Purely, Miss Harriet. He relished the friar^s chicken 
that Miss Delavie left for him, and he amused himself for 
an hour with Master Eugene, after which he did me the 
honor to play two games at backgammon. 

‘‘ I hope,'’^ said the eldest sister, coming up, “ that the 
little rogue whom I saw peeping from the window has not 
been troublesome.^^ 

He has been as good as gold, madame. He played in 
mastery’s room till Nannerl called him to his bed, when he 
went at once, ‘ true to his orders, says the master. ‘ A 
fine soldier he Avill make,^ says I to my master.’’ 

Therewith the sisters mounted the uncarpeted but well- 
polished oak stair, knocked at their father’s door, and en- 
tered one by one, each dropping her courtesy, and, though 
the eldest was five-and-twenty, neither speaking nor sitting, 
till they were greeted with a hearty, “ Come, my young 
maids, sit you down and tell your old father your gay 
doings.” 

Then the eldest took the only unoccupied chair, while 
the other two placed themselves on the window-seat, all 
bolt upright, with both little high heels on the floor, in 
none of the easy attitudes of damsels of later date, talking 
over a party. All three were complete gentlewomen in air 
and manners, though Betty had high cheek-bones, a large 
nose, rough complexion, and red hair, and her countenance 
was more lovable and trustworthy than symmetrical. The 
dainty decorations of youth looked grotesque upon her, and 
she was so well aware of the fact as to put on no more than 
was absolutely essential to a lady of birth and breeding. 
Harriet (pronounced Hawyot), the next in age, had a small 
well-set head, a pretty neck, and fine dark eyes, but the 
small-pox had mile havoc of her bloom, and left its traces 
on cheek and brow. The wreck of her beauty had given 
her a discontented, fretful expression, which rendered her 
far less pleasing than honest, homely Betty, though she 
had employed all the devices of the toilet to conceal the 
ravages of the malady and enhance her remaining ad- 
vantages of shape and carriage. 

There was an air of vexation about her as her father 
asked, “ Well, how many conquests has my little Aurelia 
made?” She could not but recollect how triumphantly she 
had listened to the same inquiiy after her own first appear- 
ance, scarcely three short years ago. Yet she grudged 


12 


LOVE AKD LIFE. • 


nothing to Aurelia, her junior by five years, who was for 
the first time arrayed as a full-grown belle, in a pale blue, 
tight-sleeved, long-waisted silk, open and looped up over a 
primrose skirt, embroidered fey her own hands with tiny 
blue butterflies hovering over harebells. There were blue 
silk shoes, likewise home-made, with silver buckles, and 
the long mittens and deep laces ruffles were of Betty’s 
fabrication. Even the dress itself had been cut by Harriet 
from old wedding hoards of their mother’s, and made up 
after the last mode imported by Madame Churchill at the 
deanery. 

The only part of the equipment not of domestic handi- 
work was the structure on the head. The Carminster hair- 
dresser had been making his rounds since daylight, taking 
his most distinguished customers last; and as the Misses 
Delavie were not high on the roll, Harriet and Aurelia had 
been under his hands at nine A. m. From that time till 
three, when the coach called for them, they had sat captive 
on low stools under a tent of table-cloth over tall chair- 
backs to keep the dust out of the frosted edifice construct- 
ed out of their rich dark hair, of the peculiar tint they 
called mouse-color. Betty had refused to submit to this 
durance. ‘‘ What sort of dinner would be on my father’s 
table-cloth if I were to sit under one all day?” said she in 
answer to Harriet’s representation of the fitness of things. 
“ La, my dear, what matters it what an old scarecrow like 
me puts on?” 

Old maidenhood set in much earlier in those days than 
at present; the sisters acquiesced, and Betty had run about 
as usual all the morning in her mob-cap, and chintz gown 
tucked through her pocket-holes, and only at the last sub- 
mitted her head to the manipulations of Corporal Palmer, 
who daily powdered his master’s wig. 

Strange and unnatural as was the whitening of the hair, 
it was effective in enhancing the beauty of Aurelia’s dark 
arched brows, the soft brilliance of her large velvety brown 
eyes, and the exquisite carnation and white of her coloring. 
Her features were delicately chiseled, and her face had that 
peculiar fresh, innocent, soft, untouched bloom and undis- 
turbed repose which form the special charm and glory of 
tlie first dawn of womanhood. Her little head was well 
poised on a slender neck, just now curving a little to one 
side with the fatigue of the hours dui-ing which it had sus- 


LOVE AED LIFE. 


13 


tained her head-gear. This consisted of a tiny flat hat, 
about the size of a plate, made of white chip, fastened on 
by long pins, and adorned by a cluster of campanulas like 
those on her dress, with a similar blue butterfly quivering 
on an invisible wire above them, the dainty handiwork of 
Harriet. 

The inquiry about conquests was a matter of course after 
a young lady^s first party, but Aurelia looked too childish 
for it, and Betty made haste to reply, 

‘‘ Aurelia was a very good girl! No one could have 
courtesied or bridled more prettily when we paid our re- 
spects to my Lady Herries and Mrs. Churchill, and the 
dean highly commended her dancing. 

‘‘ You danced? Fine doings! I thought you were 
merely invited to look on at the game at bowls. Who had 
the best of the match?^^ 

The first game was won by Canon Boltby, the second 
by the dean,^^ said Betty; “but when they would have 
played the conqueror. Lady Herries interfered and said the 
gentlemen had kept the field long enough, and now it was 
our turn. So a cow was driven on the bowling-green, with 
a bell round her neck and pink ribbons on her horns. 

“ A cow! What will they have next?^^ 

“ They say Tis all the mode in London, interposed 
Harriet. 

“ Pray was the cow to instruct you in dancing ?^^ con- 
tinued the major. 

“ No, sir,^^ said Aurelia, whom he had addressed; “ she 
was to be milked into the bowl of syllabub.'’^ 

This was received with a great “ Ho! ho!^"* and a demand 
who was to act milker. 

“ That was the best of it,"’^ said Aurelia. “ Soon came 
Miss Herries in a straw hat, and the prettiest green petti- 
coat under a white gown and apron, as dairy-maid, but the 
cow would not stand still, for all the man who led her kej^t 
on scolding her and saying ‘ Coop! coop!^ No sooner had 
Miss Herries seated herself on the stool than Moolly swerved 
away, and it was a mercy that the fine china bowl escaped. 
Every one was laughing, and poor Miss Herries was ready 
to cry, when forth steps my sister, coaxes the cow, bids the 
man lend his apron, sits down on the stool, and has the 
bowl frothing in a moment. 

“ I would not have done so for worlds, said Harriet; 


14 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


“ I dreaded every moment to be asked where Miss Delavie 
learned to be a milk-maid.^'’ 

“ You are welcome to reply, In her own yard,'^ said 
Betty. “ You may thank me for your syllabub. 

‘‘ Which, after all, you forbade poor Aura to taste 

“ Assuredly. I was not going to have her turn sick on 
my hands. She may think herself beholden to me for her 
dance with that fine young beau. Who was he, Aura.^^^ 
How now!^^ said the major, in a tone of banter, while 
Harriet indulged in a suppressed giggle. You let Aura 
dance with a stranger! Where was your circumspection, 
Mrs. Betty?^^ Aurelia colored to the roots of her hair and 
faltered, “ It was Lady Herries who presented him. 

“ Yes, the child is not to blame,^^ said Betty; ‘‘ I left 
her in the charge of Mrs. Churchill while I went to wash 
my hands after milking the cow, which these fine folk 
seemed tn suppose could be done without soiling a finger. 

‘‘ ThaCs the way with Chloe and Phyllida in Arcaidia,^^ 
said her father. 

‘‘ But not here,^^ said Betty. In tlie house, I was de- 
tained a little while, for the housekeeper wanted me to ex- 
plain my recipe for taking out grease spots. 

“ A little while, sister? said Harriet. “ It was through 
the dancing of three minuets, and the country dance had 
long been begun. 

“ I was too busy to heed the time,^^ said Betty, “ for I 
obtained the recipe for those delicious almond-cakes, and 
showed Mrs. Waldron the Vienna mode of clearing collee. 
AVhen I came back the fiddles were playing, and Aurelia 
going down the middle with a young gentleman in a scarlet 
coat. Poor little Pobert Howe was too bashful to find a 
partner, though he longed, to dance; so I made another 
couple with him, and thus missed further speech, save that 
as we took our leave, both Sir George and the dean compli- 
mented me, and said what there is no occasion to repeat 
just now, sir, when I ought to be fetching your supper. 

‘^Ha! Is it too flattering for little Aura ?^^ asked her 
father. Come, never spare. She will hear worse than 
that in her day, 1^11 warrant. 

‘‘ It was merely, said Betty, reluctantly, ‘‘ that the 
dean called her the star of the evening, and declared that 
her dancing equaled her faqe.^' 


LOVE AND LIFE. 15 

“Well said of his reverence! And his honor the baro- 
net, what said he?^^ 

“ He said, sir, that so comely and debonair a couple had 
not been seen in these parts since you came home from 
Flanders and led off the assize ball with Mistress Urania 
Helavie.^^ 

“ There, Aura, Tis my turn to blush cried the major, 
comically hiding his face behind Betty's fan. “ But all 
this time you have never told me who was this young 
spark. " 

“ That I can not tell, sir," returned Betty. “We were 
sent home in the coach with Mistress Duckworth and’ her 
daughters, who talked so incessantly that we could not 
open our lips. Who was he. Aura?" 

“ My Lady Herries only presented him as Sir Amyas, 
sister," replied Aurelia. 

“ Sir Amyas!" cried her auditors, all together. 

“ Nothing more," said Aurelia. “ Indeed she made as 
though he and I must be acquainted, and I suppose that 
she took me for Harriet, but I knew not how to explain. " 

“ No doubt," said Harriet. “ I was sick of the music 
and folly, and had retired to the summer house with Peggy 
Duckworth, who had brought a sweet sonnet of Mr. Am- 
brose Phillips, ‘ Defying Cupid.' " 

Her father burst into a chuckling laugh, much to her 
mortification, though she would not seem to understand it, 
and Betty took up the moral. 

“ Sir Amyas! Are you positive that you caught the 
name, child?" 

“ I thought so, sister," said Aurelia, with the insecurity 
produced by such cross-questioning; “ but I may have been 
mistaken, since, of course, the true Sir Amyas Belamour 
would never be here without my father's knowledge." 

“ Nor is there any other of the name," said her father, 
“ except that melancholic uncle of his who never leaves 
his dark chamber. " 

“ Depend upon it," said Harriet, “ Lady Herries said 
Sir Ambrose. No doubt it was Sir Ambrose Watford." 

“ Nay, Harriet, I demur to that," said her father drolly. 
“ I flatter myself I was a more personable youth than 
to be likened to Watford with his swollen nose. What like 
was your cavalier. Aura?" 

“ Indeed, sir, I can not describe him. I was so much 


16 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


terrified lest he should speak to me that I had much ado 
to mind my steps. I know he had white gloves and dia- 
mond shoe-buckles, and that his feet moved by no means 
like those of Sir Ambrose. 

‘‘ Aura is a modest chid, and does credit to her breed- 
ing,^’’ said Betty. “ Thus much I saw, that the young gen- 
tleman was tall and personable enough to bear compar- 
ison even to you, sir, not more than nineteen or twenty 
years of age, in a laced scarlet uniform, as I think of the 
the Dragoon Guards, and with a little powder, but not 
enpugh to'^disguise that his hair was entire gold.^^ 
g “ That all points to his being indeed young Belamour," 
said her father; “ age, military appearance, and all — I 
wonder what this portends?'^ 

‘‘ What a disaster!^’’ exclaimed Harriet, “ that my sister 
and I should have been out of the way, and only a chit 
like Aura be there to be presented to him. 

If young ladies ^oill defy Cupid, began her father; 
but at that moment Corporal Palmer knocked at the door, 
bringing a basin of soup for his master, and announcing 
“ Supper is served, young ladies. 

Each of the three bent her knee to receive her father^s 
blessing and kiss, then courtesying at the door, departed, 
Betty lingering behind her two juniors to see her father 
taste his soup and to make sure that he rehshed it. 


CHAPTER II. 

THE HOUSE OF DELAVIE. 

All his Papliian mother fear; 

Empress! all thy sway revere! 

Euripides (Anstice). 

The parlor where the supper was laid was oak-paneled, 
but painted white. Like a little island in the vast polished 
slippeiy floor lay a square much-worn carpet, just big 
enough to accommodate a moderate-sized table and the 
surrounding high-hacked chairs. There was a tent-stitch 
rug before the Dutch-tiled fire-place, and on the walls hung 
two framed prints — one representing the stately and grace- 
ful Duke of Marlborough; the other, the small, dark, 
pinched, but fiery Prince Eugene. On the spotless white 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


17 


cloth was spread a frugal meal of bread, butter, cheese, 
and lettuce; a Jug of milk, another of water, and a bottle 
of cowslip wine; for the habits of the family were more 
than usually frugal and abstemious. 

Frugality and health alike obliged Major Delavie to ob- 
serve a careful regimen. He had served in all Marlborough ^s 
campaigns, and had afterward entered the Austrian army, 
and fought in the Turkish war, until he had been disabled 
before Belgrade by a terrible wound, of which he still felt 
the effects. Returning home with his wife, the daughter 
of a Jacobite exile, he had become a kind of agent in man- 
aging the family estate for his cousin the heiress. Lady Bel- 
amour, who allowed him to live rent-free in this almost 
ruinous old manor house, the cradle of the family. 

This was all that Harriet and Aurelia knew. The latter 
had been bom at the manor, and young girls, if not 
brought extremely forward, were treated like children; but 
Elizabeth, the eldest of the family, who could remember 
Vienna, was so much the companion and confidante of her 
father, that she was more on the level of a mother than a 
sister to her juniors. 

“ Then you think Aurelia^ s beau was really Sir Amyas 
Belamour,^^ said Harriet, as they sat down to supper. 

‘‘ So it appears,^ ^ said Betty, gravely. 

Do you think he will come hither, sister? I would 
give the world to see him,^^ continued Harriet. 

“ He said something of hoping for better aicquaintance,^^ 
softly put in Aurelia. 

‘‘ Oh, did he so?'" cried Harriet. “ For demure as you 
are. Miss Aura, I fancy you looked a little above the dia- 
mond shoe-buckles!" 

“ Fie, Harriet!" exclaimed Betty; “ I will not have the 
child tormented. He ought to come and pay his respects 
to my father. ^ ^ • 

“ Have you ever seen my lady?" asked Aurelia. 

‘‘That have I, Miss Aurelia," interposed Corporal 
Palmer, “ and a rare piece of beauty she would be, if one 
could forget the saying ‘ handsome is as handsome does. ' " 

“ I never knew what she has done," said Aurelia. 

“'Tis a long story," hastily said Betty, “ too long to 
tell at table. I must make haste to prepare the poultice 
for my father." 

She quickly broke up the supper-party, and the two 


18 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


younger sisters repaired to their chamber, both conscious of 
having been rejiressed; the one feeling injured, the otlier 
rebuked for forwardness and curiosity. The three sisters 
shared one long low room with a large light closet at each 
end. One of these was sacred to powder, the other was 
Betty^s private property. Harriet had a little white bed to 
herself, Betty and Aurelia nightly climbed into a lofty and 
solemn structure curtained with ancient figured damask. 
Each had her own toilet-table and a press for her clothes, 
where she contrived to stow them m a wonderfully small 
space. 

Harriet and Aurelia had divested themselves of their 
finery before Betty came in, and they assisted her opera- 
tions, Harriet preferring a complaint that she never would 
tell them anything. 

‘‘ I have no objection to tell you at fitting times, said 
]5etty, ‘‘but not with Palmer putting in his word. You 
should have discretion, Harriet.'’^ 

“ The dean^s servants never speak when they are waiting 
at table, said Harriet with a pout. 

“ But ITl warrant them to hear!^^ retorted Betty. 

“ And I had rather have our dear old honest corporal 
than a dozen of those fine lackeys,^^ .said Aurelia. ‘‘ But 
you will tell us the story like a dear good sister, while we 
brush the powder out of our hair. 

They put on powdering gowns, after releasing themselves 
from the armor of their stays, and were at last at ease, each 
seated on a wooden chair in the powdering closet, brush in 
hand, with a cloud of white dust flying round, and the true 
color of the hair beginning to appear. 

“ Then it is indeed true that my lady is one of the great- 
est beauties of Queen Carohne^s Court, if not the greatest 
said Harriet. 

“ Truly she is,^^ said Betty, “ and though in full ma- 
turity, she preserves the splendor of her prime. 

“ Tell us more particularly,^^ said Aurelia; “ can she be 
more lovely than was our dear mamma?” 

“ No, indeed! lovely was never the word for her, to my 
mind,” said Betty; “ her face always seemed to me like 
that of one of the marble statues I remember at Vienna; 
perfect, but clear, cold, and hard. But I am no judge, 
for I did not love her, and in a child, admiration accom- 
panies affection. ” 


LOVE AKt> LIFE. 


19 


What did Palmer mean by ‘ handsome is that hand- 
some does?^ Surely my father never was ill-treated by 
Lady Belamour?^^ 

“ Let me explain/^ said the elder sister. “ The ancient 
custom and precedent of our family have always transmit- 
ted the estates to the male heir. But when Charles II. 
granted the patent of nobility to the first Baron Delavie, 
the barony was limited to the heirs male of his body, and 
our grandfather was only his brother. The last lord had 
three sons, and one daughter, Urania, who alone survived 
him.^^ 

I know all that from the monument, said Aurelia; 
‘‘ one was drowned while bathing, one died of spotted fever, 
and one was killed at the battle of Eaniillies. How dread- 
ful for the poor old father 

“ And there is no Lord Delavie now,^^ said Harriet. 
“ Why, since my lady could not have the title, did it not 
come to our papa?’^ 

‘‘ Because his father was not in the patent, said Betty. 
“ However, it was thought that if he were married to Mis- 
tress Urania, there would be a fresh creation in their favor. 
So as soon as the last campaign was over, our father, who - 
had always been a favorite at the great house, was sent for 
from the army, and given to understand that he was to 
conduct his courtship, with the cousin he had petted as a 
little child, as speedily as was decorous. However, in win- 
ter quarters at Tournai he had already pledged his faith to 
the daughter of a Scottish gentleman in the Austrian serv- 
ice. This engagement was viewed by the old lord as a 
trifiing folly, which might be set aside by the head of the 
family. He hinted that the proposed match was by no 
means disagreeable to his daughter, and scarcely credited . 
his ears when his young kinsman declared his honor for- 
bade him to break with Miss Murray.^'’ 

“Dear father,^^ ejaculated Aurelia, “so he gave up 
everything for her sake?^^ 

“And never repented it!^^ said Betty. 

“Now,^^ said Harriet, “I understand why he entered 
the imperial army. 

“ It was all he had to depend on,^^ said Betty, “ and he 
had been favorably noticed by Prince Eugene at the siege 
of Lisle, so that he easily obtained a commission. He be- 
lieved that though it was in the power of the old lord to 


^0 


LOYE AKB LIFE. 


dispose of part of his estates by will, yet that some of the 
land was entailed in the male line, so that there need not 
be many years of campaigning or poverty for his bride, 
even if her father never were restored to his Scottish prop- 
erty. As you know, our grandfather. Sir Archibald Mur- 
ray, died for his loyalty in the rising of ^15, and two years 
later our father received at Belgrade that terrible wound 
which closed his military career. Meantime, Urania had 
married Sir Jovian Belamour, and Lord Delavie seemed 
to have forgotten my father^s olfense, and gave him the 
management of the estate, with this old house to live in, 
showing himself glad of the neighborhood of a kinsman 
whom he could thoroughly trust. All went well till my 
lady came to visit her father. Then all old offenses were 
renewed. Lady Belamour treated my mother as a poor de- 
pendent. She, daughter to a noble line of pedigree far 
higher than that of the Delavies, might well return her 
haughty looks, and would not yield an inch, nor join in 
the general adulation. There were disputes about us chil- 
dren. Poor Archie was a most beautiful boy, and though 
you might not suppose it, I was a very pretty little girl, 
this nose of mine being then much more shapely than the 
little buttons which grow to fair proportions. On the other 
hand, the little Belamours were puny and sickly; indeed, 
as you know, this young Sir Amyas, who was not then 
born, is the only one of the whole family who has been 
reared. Then we had been carefully bred, could chatter 
Prench, recite poetry, make our bow and courtesy, bridle, 
and said Sir and Madame, while the poor little cousins who 
had been put out to nurse had no more manners than the 
calves and pigs. People were the more flattering to us be- 
cause they expected soon to see my father in his lordship ^s 
place; and on the other hand, officious tongues were not 
wanting to tell my lady how Mrs. Delavie contrasted the 
two sets of children. Very bitter offense was taken; nor 
has my lady ever truly forgiven, whatever our dear good 
father may believe. Wlien the old lord died, a will was 
found, bequeathing all his unentailed estates to his daugh- 
ter, and this was of course strong presumption that he be- 
lieved in the existence of a deed of entail; but none could 
ever be found, and the precedents were not held to establish 
the right. ^ ^ 

Did he leave my father nothing?'^ asked Harriet 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


21 


He left him three hundred pounds and made him joint 
executor with Sir Jovian. There was no mention of this 
house, which was the original house of the family, the first 
lord having built the Great House; and both my father 
and Sir Jovian were sure that Lord Delavie believed it 
would come to him; but no proofs were extant, and my 
lady would only consent to his occup3dng it, as before, as 
her agent. 

“ I always knew we were victims to an injustice, said 
Harriet, “ though I never understood the matter exactly. 

“ You were a mere child; and my father does not love to 
talk of it. He ceased to care much about the loss after our 
dear Archie died. 

‘‘Not for Eugene^s sake?^^ 

“ Eugene was not born for two years after Archie^s 
death. My dear mother had drooped from the time of the 
disappointment, blaming herself for having ruined my fa- 
ther, and scarce accepting comfort when he vowed that all 
was well lost for her sake. She reproached herself with 
having been proud and unconcilia tory, though I doubt 
whether it made much difference. Then her spirit was al- 
together crushed by the loss of Archie, she never had an- 
other day^s health. Eugene came to her like Icliabod to 
Phinehas’s wife, and she was soon gone from us, said 
Betty, wiping away a tear. 

“ Leaving us a dear sister to be a mother to us,^"' said 
Aurelia, raising her sweet face for a kiss. 

Harriet pondered a little, and said, “ My lady is not at 
enmity with us, since my father keeps the house and 
agency. ^ ^ 

“ We should be reduced to poverty indeed without 
them,^^ said Betty; “ and Sir Jovian, an upright honorable 
man, the only person whom my lady truly respected, in- 
sisted on his continuance. As long as my lady regards his 
memory we are safe, but no one can trust to her caprice. 

“ She never comes here, nor disturbs my father.^'’ 

“ No, but she makes heavy calls on the estate, and is 
displeased if he refuses to overpress the tenants or hesi- 
tates to cut the timber.'’^ 

“ I have heard say,^^ added Harriet, “ that her debts in 
town and her losses at play drove her to accept her present 
husband, Mr. Wayland, a hideous old fellow, wlio had be- 
come vastly rich through some discovery about cannon. 


22 


LOVE AKD LIFE* 


“ He is ail honorable and upright man/^ said i^etty. ‘‘ 1 
should have few anxieties if he had not been sent out to 
Gibraltar and Minorca to superintend the fortifications/^ 

“ Meantime my lady makes the money fly, by the help 
of the gallant Colonel Mar/^ said Harriet lightly. 

“ Fy! Harriet returned the elder sister; “ I have al- 
lowed you too far. My father calls Lady Bel amour his 
commanding officer, and permits no scandal to be spoken 
of her.^" 

“Any more than of Prince -Eugene said Harriet, 
laugliiug. 

“But oh! sister I cried Aurelia, “let us stay a little 
longer. I have not half braided my hair, and I long to 
hear who is the gentleman of whom my father spoke as 
living in the dark. ” 

“ Mr. Amyas Belamour! Sir Jovian^s brother! Ah! 
that is a sad story, replied Betty, “ though I am not cer- 
tain that I have it correctly, having only heard it discussed 
between my father and mother when I was a growing girl, 
sitting at my sampler. I think he was a barrister; I know 
he was a very fine gentleman and a man of parts, who had 
made the Grand Tour; for when he was staying at the 
Great House, he said my mother was the only person he 
met who could converse with him on the Old Masters, or 
any other subject of virtu, and that, being reported to my 
lady, increased her bitterness all the more because Mr. Bela- 
mour was a friend of Mr. Addison and Sir Richard Steele, 
and had contributed some papers to the “ Spectator. He 
was making a good fortune in his profession, and had formed 
an engagement with a young My in Hertfordshire, of a 
good old family, but one which had always been . disliked 
by Lady Belamour. It is said, too, that Miss Sedhurst had 
been thought to have attracted one of my lady’s many ad- 
mirers, and that the latter was determined not to see her 
rival become her sister-in-law, and probably with the same 
title, since Mr. Belamour was on the verge of obtaining 
knighthood. So, if she be not greatly belied. Lady Bela- 
mour plied all parties with her confidences, till she coji- 
trived to breed suspicion and jealousy on all sides, until 
finally Miss Sedhurst’ s brother, a crack-brained youth, 
offered such an insult to Mr. Belamour, that honor re- 
quired a challenge. It was thought that as Mr. Belamour 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


23 


was the superior in age and position^ the matter might 
have been composed, but the young man was fiery and hot- 
tempered, and would neither retract nor apologize; and 
Mr. Belamour had been stung in his tenderest feelings. 
They fought with pistols, an innovation that, as you know, 
my father hates, as far more deadly and unskillful than the 
noble practice of fencmg; and the result was that Mr. Sed- 
hurst was shot dead, and Mr. Belamour received a severe 
wound in the head. The poor young lady, being always 
of a delicate constitution, fell into fits on hearing of the 
news, and died in a few weeks. The unfortunate Mr. 
Belamour survives, but whether from injury to the brain, 
or from grief and remorse, he has never been able to en- 
dure either light or company, but has remained ever since 
in utter darkness and seclusion. ^ ^ 

‘‘ Utter darkness! How dreadful cried Aurelia, shud- 
dering. 

‘‘ How long has this been, sister?^’ inquired Harriet. 

‘‘About nine years,'’ ^ said Betty. ‘The lamentable 
affair took jfiace just before Sir Jovian^’s death, and the 
shock may have hastened it, for he had long been in a lan- 
guishing state. It was the more unfortunate, since he had 
made Mr. Belamour sole iiersonal guardian to his only 
surviving son, and appointed him, together with my father 
and another gentleman, trustee for the Belamour property; 
and there has been much difficulty in consequence of his 
being unable to act, or to do more than give his signa- 
ture. ^ 

“ Ah! sister, I wish you had not told me,’’ said Aurelia. 
“I shall dream of the unfortunate gentleman all night. 
Nine years of utter darkness!” 

“We know who is still child enough to hate darkness,” 
said Harriet. 

“ Take care,” said Betty.'"" “ You must make haste, or 
I shall leave you to it.” 


V 




24 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


CHAPTER III. 

AMONG THE COWSLIPS. 

The insect youth are on the wing, 

Eager to taste the honeyed spring, 

And float amid the liquid noon. 

Some lightly on the torrent skim. 

Some phow their gayly gilded trim. 

Quick-glancing to the sun. 

Gray. 

Though hours were early, the morning meal was not 
served till so late as really to deserve the title of breakfast. 

When the three sisters sat down at nine o^ clock, in mob 
caps, and the two younger in white dresses, all had been 
ujj at least two hours. Aurelia led forward little Eugene 
in a tailed red coat, long-breasted bulf waistcoat, buff tights 
and knitted stockings, with a deep frilled collar under the 
floAving locks on his shoulders, in curls which emulated a 
wig. She had been helping him to prepare “his tasks 
from the well-thumbed but strongly bound books which 
had served poor Archie before him. They were deposited 
on the window-seat to wait till the bowls of bread and 
milk were discussed, since tea and coffee were only a special 
afternoon treat not considered as wholesome for children; 
so that Aurelia had only just been promoted to them, along 
with powder and a fan. 

Harriet wore her favorite pistachio ribbon round her cap 
and as a breast-knot, and her cheeks bore token of one 
of the various washes with which she was always striving 
to regain the smoothness of her complexion. Knowing 
what this betokened, an elderly sisterly instinct of caution 
actuated Betty to remind her juniors of an engagement 
made with Dame Jewel of the upland farm for the ex- 
change of a setting of white ducks ^ eggs for one of five-toed 
fowls, and to request them to carry the basket. 

Eugene danced on his chair and begged to be of the 
party; but Harriet pouted, and asked why the “ odd boy " 
could not be sent. 

“ Because, as you very well know, if he did not break, 
he would addle every egg in the basket. 

“ There can be no need to go to-day. 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


25 


‘‘ The speckled hen is clocking to brood, and she is the 
best mother in the yard. Besides, it is time that the cow- 
slip wine were made, and I will give you k)me bread and 
cheese and gingerbread for noonchin, so that you may fill 
your baskets in the meadows before they are laid up for 
grass. Mrs. Jewel will give you a drink of milk.'’^ 

“ Oh, let me go, sister pleaded Eugene. ‘‘ She gives 
us bread and honey! And I want to hear the lapwings in 
the meadows cry pee-wit. ” 

“ We shall have you falling into the river,^^ said Harriet, 
rather fretfully. 

“ Ho, indeed! If you fall in, I will pull you out. Young 
maids should not run about the country without a gentle- 
man to take care of them. Should they, sister cried the 
doughty seven years ^ old champion. 

“ Who taught you that, sir?^^ asked Betty, trying to 
keep her countenance. 

“ I heard Mrs. Churchill say so to my papa,^^ returned 
the boy. ‘‘ So now, there ^s a good sister. Ho pray let me 
go!"" 

“ If you say your tasks well, and will promise to be 
obedient to Harriet and to keep away from the river, and 
not touch the basket of eggs. "" 

Eugene was ready for any number of promises; and 
Harriet, seeing there was no escape for her, went olf with 
Aurelia to put on their little three-cornered muslin hand- 
kerchiefs and broad-brimmed straw hats, while Eugene 
repeated his tasks, namely, a fragment of the catechism, 
half a column of spelling frorg the ‘‘ Universal Spelling- 
Book,"" and (Betty"s special pride) his portion of the 
‘‘ Orbis Sensualium Pictus "" of Johannes Amos Comen- 
ius, the wonderful vocabulary, with still more wonderful 
“ cuts,"" that was then the small boy"s path to Latinity. 

The eagle, Aquila, the king of birds, Rex Avium, look- 
eth at the sun, intuetur Solem, as indeed he could hardly 
avoid doing, since in the “ cut "" the sun was within a 
hair"s-breadth of his beak, while his claws were almost 
touching a crow (Corvus) perched on a dead horse, to 
exemplify how Aves Raptor es fed on carrion. 

Thanks to Aurelia"s private assistance, Eugene knew his 
lessons well enough for this excitement not to make him 
stumble so often as to prevent Betty"s pronouncing him a 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


8G 

good boy^ and dispensing with his copy, sum, piece, and 
reading, until the evening. These last were very tough 
affairs, the recitation being from Shakespeare, and the 
reading from the “ Spectator. There were no children's 
books, properly so called, except the ballads, chap-books 
brought round by peddlers, often far from edifying, and the 
plunge from the horn-book into general literature was, to 
say the least of it, bracing. 

The Delavie family was cultivated for the time. French 
had been brought home as a familiar tongue, though 

Telemaque,^^ Eacine, and “ Le Grand Cyrus were the 
whole library in tliat language; and there was not another 
within thirty miles. On two days in the week the sisters 
became Mesdemoiselles Elizabeth, Henriette, iind Aurelie, 
and conversed in French over their spinning, seams, lace, 
or embroidery; nor was Aurelia yet emancipated from re- 
citing Eacine on alternate days with Milton and Shake- 
speare. 

Betty could likewise talk German with the old Austrian 
maid, Nannerl, who had followed the family from Vienna; 
but the accomplishment was not esteemed, and the dialect 
was barbarous. From the time of her mother’s death, 
Betty had been a strict and careful, though kind, ruler to 
her sisters; and the long walk was a greater holiday to Au- 
relia than to Eugene, releasing her from her book and 
work, whereas he would soon have been trundling his hoop, 
and haunting the steps of Palmer, who was gardener as 
well as valet, butler, and a good deal besides, and moreover 
drilled his young master. Thus Eugene carried his head 
as erect as any grenadier in Bhe service, and was a thorough 
little gentleman in miniature; a perfect little beau, as his 
sisters loved to call the darling- of their hearts and hopes. ^ 

Even Harriet could not be cross to him, though she made 
Aurelia carry the eggs, and indulged in sundry petulant 
whisks of the fan which she carried by way of parasol. 
“ Now, why does Betty ,do this?” she exclaimed, as soon 
as they were out of hearing. ‘‘ Is it to secure to herself the 
whole enjoyment of your beau?^’ 

“ You forget,” said Aurelia. ‘‘ You promised to fetch 
the eggs, when we met Mrs. Jewel jogging home from 
market on her old blind white horse last Saturday, because 
you said no eggs so shaken could ever be hatched.” 

‘‘You demure chit!” exclaimed Harriet; “ would you 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


27 


make me believe that you have no regrets for so charming 
a young gentleman, my lady's son and our kinsman." 

‘‘ If he spoke to me I should not know how to answer, 
and then you would blame my rudeness. Besides," she 
added, with childish sagacity, “ he can be nothing, but a 
fine London macaroni. Only think of the cowslips! A 
whole morning to make cowslip balls," she added, with a 
little frisk. “ I would’ not give one for all the macaronies 
in England, with their powder and their snuff-boxes. 
Eaugh!" 

‘‘ Ah, child, you will sing another note, perhaps, when it 
is too late," said her sister, with a sigh between envy and 
compassion. ^ 

^ It floated past Aurelia unheeded, as she danced up one 
side of a stile, and sprung clear down into a green park, 
jumped Eugene down after her by both hands, and ex- 
claimed, Harriet is in her vapors; come, let us have a 
race!" 

She was instantly careering along like a white butterfly 
in the sunshine, flitting on as che child tried to catch her, 
among the snowy hawthorn bushes, or sinking down for 
very joy and delight among the bank of wild hyacinths. 
Life and free motion wei^ joy enough for that happy being 
with her childish heart, and the serious business of the 
day was all delight. There lay the rich meadows basking 
in the sun, and covered with short grass just beginning its 
summer growth, but with the cowslips standing high above 
it; hanging down their rich clusters of soft, pure, delicately 
scented bells, from their pinky stems over their pale crink- 
led leaves, interspersed here and there with the deep pur- 
ple of the fool's orchis, and the pale brown quiver-grass 
shaking out its trembling awns on their invisible stems. 
No flower is more delightful to gather than the cowslip, 
fragrant as the breath of a cow. And Aurelia darted about. 
Idling the golden heap in her basket with untiring enjoy- 
ment; then, producing a tape, called on Harriet, who h^ 
been working in a more leisurely fashion, to join her in 
making a cowslip ball, and charged Eugene not to nip off 
the heads too short. 

The sweet, soft, golden globn was made, and even Har- 
riet felt the delicious intoxication. The young things tossed 
it aloft, flung it from one to the other, caught it, caressed 


28 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


it, buried their faces in it, and threw it back with shrieks 
of glee. 

Suddenly Harriet checked her sister with a peremptory 
sign. She heard horse-hoofs in the lane, divided from the 
field by a hedge of pollard willows, so high that she had 
never thought of being overlooked, till the cessation of the 
trotting sound struck her; and looking round she saw that 
a horseman had halted at the gate, and was gazing at their 
sports. It was from the distance of half a field, but this 
was enough to fill Harriet with dismay. She drew herself up 
ill a moment, signing peremptorily to Aurelia, who was 
fiying about, her hat ofi, her one long curl streaming be- 
hind as she darted hither and thither, evading Eugene, 
who was pursuing her. 

As she paused, and Eugene clutched her dress with a 
shout of ecstasy, Harriet came up, glancing severely 
toward the gate, and saying, as she handed her sister the 
hat, This comes of childishness! That we should be seen 
thus! AVhat a hoyden he will think you!’’ as the hoofs 
went on and the red coat vanished. 

“He! Who.^ Hot the farmer?^'’ said Aurelia. “This is 
not laid up for hay.^^ 

“ Ho indeed. I believe it is l^/’ said Harriet, mysteri- 
ously. 

“ He?^^ repeated Aurela. “Hot Mr. Arden, for he 
would be in black and at Harriet’s disgusted gesture, 
“ I beg your pardon, but I did not know you had a new he. 
Oh! surely you are not thinking of the young baronet?^ ^ 

“ I am sure it was his figure.'’-’ 

“You did not see him yesterday?’^ 

“ Ho, but his air had too much distinction for any one 
from these parts. 

“ Could you see what his air was from this distance? I 
should never have guessed it, but you have more experience, 
being older. Come, Eugene, another race !’ ^ 

“ Ho; I will have no more folly. I was too good-natured 
to allow it. I am vexed beyond measure that he should 
have seen such rusticity. ” 

“ Hever mind, dear Harriet. Most likely it was no such 
person, for it was not well-bred to sit staring at us; and if 
it were he, you were not known to him.'’' 

“You were." 

“ Then he must have eyes as shai*p as yours are 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


29 


for an air of distinction. Having only seen me in my blue 
and primrose suit, how should he know me in my present 
trim? Besides, I believe it was only young Dick* Jewel in 
a cast coat of Squire Humphre3r’s.'’^ 

The charm of the cowslip gathering was broken. Eu- 
gene found himself very hungry, and the noonchin was 
produced, after which the walk was continued to the farm- 
house, where the young people were made very welcome. 

Farmers were, as a rule, more rustic than the present 
laborer, but they lived a life of far less care, if of more toil, 
than their successors, having ample means for their simple 
needs, and enjoying jocund plenty. The clean kitchen, 
with the stone door, the beaupot of may thorn on the empty 
hearth, the shining walnut-wood table, the spinning-wheel, 
wooden chairs, and forms, all looked cool and inviting, and 
the visitors were regaled with home-made brown bre^, de- 
licious butter and honey, and a choice of new milk, mead, 
and currant wine. 

Dame Jewel, in a white frill under a black silken hood, 
a bulf turnover kerchief, stout stuff gown and white apron, 
was dehghted to wait on them; and Eugene^s bliss was 
complete among the young kittens and puppies in baskets 
on opposite sides of the window, the chickens before their 
coops, the ducklings like yellow balls on the grass, and the 
huge family of little spotted piglings which, to the scandal 
of his sisters, he declared the most delightful of all. 

Their hostess knew nothing of the young baronet being 
in the neighborhood, and was by no means gratified by the 
intelligence. 

“ Lackaday! Miss Harriet, you don^t mean that ‘the 
family is coming doAvn here ! I don^t want none of them. 
^Tis Dad times for the farmer when any of that sort is 
nigh. They make notliing of galloping their horses a hunt- 
ing right through the crops, ay, and horsewhipping the 
farmer if he do but say a word for the sweat of his brow.^' 

‘‘ Oh, Mrs. Jewel cried Aurelia, in whose ear lingered 
the courteous accents of her partner, ‘‘ they would never 
behave themselves so. ^ ^ 

“ Bless you. Miss Orreely, ITl tell you what Fve seen 
with my own eyes. My own good man, the master here, 
with the horsewhip laid about his shoulders at that very 
thornbush, by one of them fine gentlefolks, just because he 
bad mended the gap in the hedge they was used to rid^ 


30 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


through, and my lady sitting by in her laced scarlet habit 
on her fine horse, smiling like a painted picture, and say- 
ing, ‘ Thank you, sir, the rascals need to learn not to inter- 
fere with our sport, all in that gentle-sounding low voice 
of hers, enough to drive one mad. 

“I thought Sir Jovian had been a kind master, said 
Harriet. 

“This was not Sir Jovian. Poor gentleman, he was 
not often out a-hunting. This was one of the fine young 
rakish fellows from Lunnun as were always swarming 
about my lady, like bees over that mayhush. Sir Thomas 
Donne, I think they called him. They said he got killed 
by a wild boar, hunting in foreign parts, afterward, and 
serve him right! But there! They would all do her bid- 
ding, whether for bad or good, so may be it was less his 
fault than hers. She is a bitter one, is my lady, for all she 
looks so sweet. And this here young barrowknight will be 
his own mother ^s son, and I donT' want none of ^em*down 
here. '’Tis a good job we have your good papa, the major, 
to stand between her and us; I only wish he had his own, 
for a rare good landloixl he would be.^^ 

The darnel’s vain wishes were cut short by shrieKs from 
the poultry-yard, where Eugene was discovered up to the 
ankles in the black ooze of the horse-pond, waving a little 
stick in defiance of an angry gander, who with white out- 
spread wings, snake-like neck, bent and protruded, and 
frightful screams and hisses, was no bad representation of 
his namesake the dragon, especially to a child not much 
exceeding him in height. 

The monster was put to the rout, the champion dragged 
out of the pond, breathlessly explaining that he only wanted 
to look at the goslings when the stupid geese cackled and 
the gander wanted to fly at his eyes. “ And I didnT see 
where I was going, for I had to keep him off, so I got into 
the mud. Will sister be angry he concluded, ruefully 
surveying the dainty little stockings and shoes coated with 
black mud. 

But before the buckled shoon had been scraped, or the 
liosen washed and dried, the cheerful memory of boyhood 
had convinced itself that the enemy had been put to flight 
by his manful resistance; and he turned a deaf ear to 
Aui'elia^s suggestion that the affair had been retribution for 


LOVE AND LIFE. 31 

lus constant oblivion of Comenius^ assertion that anser 
g ingrit, “ the goose gaggle tli.^^ 

They went home more soberly, having been directed by 
Mrs. Jewel to a field bordered by a copse, where grew the 
most magnificent of Titania^s pensioners tall, wearing 
splendid rubies in their gold coats; and in due time the trio 
presented themselves at home, weary, but glowing with the 
innocent excitement of their adventures. Harriet was the 
first to proclaim that they had seen a horseman who must 
be Sir Amyas. “ Had sister seen him?^^ 

“ Only through the window of the kitchen where I was 
making puff paste. ” 

“He called then! Did my papa see him?^^ 

“ My father was in no condition to see any one; being 
under the hands and razor of Palmer. 

“La! what a sad pity. Did he leave no message 
“ He left his coni]pliments, and hoped his late partner 
was not fatigued. 

“ Is he at the Great House? Will he call again 
“ He is on his way to make a visit in Monmouthshire, 
together with a brother officer, who is related to my Lady 
Herries, and finding that their road led them within twenty 
miles of our town, they decided on making a diversion to 
see her. It was only from her that Sir Amyas understood 
how close he was to his mother ^s property, for my lady is 
extremely Jealous of her prerogative.^^ 

“ How did you hear all this, sister 
“ Sir George Herries rode over this afternoon and sat an 
hour with my father, delighting him by averring that the 
young ""gentleman has his m other ^s charms of person, to- 
gether with his fathers solidity of principle and character, 
and that he will do honor to his name.^^ 

“ Oh, I hope he will come back by this route !^^ cried 
Harriet. 

“ Of that there is small likelihood, said Betty. “ His 
mother is nearly certain to prevent it, since she is sure to 
take umbrage at his having visited the Great House with- 
out her permission. 


32 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


CHAPTER IV. 

MY LADY^S MISSIVE. 

To the next coffee-house he speeds, 

Takes up the news, some scraps he reads. 

Gat. 

Though Carminster was a cathedral city, the Special 
General Post only came in once a week, and was liable to 
delay through storms, snows, mire, and highwaymen, so 
that its arrival was as great an event as is now the coming 
in of a mail steamer to a colonial harbor. The “ post 
was a stout countryman, with a red coat, tall jackboots, 
and a huge hat. He rode a strong horse, which carried, 
en croupe, an immense pack, covered with oiled canvas, ris- 
ing high enough to support his back, wliile he blew a long 
horn to announce his arrival. 

Letters were rare and very expensive articles unless 
franked by a Member of Parliament, but gazettes and 
news-letters formed a large portion of his freight. No 
private gentleman except the dean and Sir George Herries 
went to the extravagance of taking in a newspaper on his 
own account, but there was a club who subscribed for the 

Daily Gazetteer, the “ Tatler,^^ and one or two other 
infant forms of periodical literature. These were hastily 
skimmed on their first arrival at the club-room at the 
White Dragon, lay on the table to be more deliberately 
conned for a week, and finally were divided among the 
members to be handed about among the families and de- 
pendents as long as they would hold together. 

Major Delavie never willingly missed the coming in of 
the mail, for his forei^ experiences gave him keen interest 
in the war between France and Austria, and he watched 
the campaigns of his beloved Prince. Eugene with untiring 
enthusiasm, being, moreover, in the fiattering position of 
general interpreter and guide to his neighbors through the 
scanty articles on foreign intelligence. 

It was about ten days after the syllabub party, when he 
had quite lecovered his ordinary health, that he mounted 
his stout pony in his military undress, his cocked hat 
perched on his well-powdered bob-wig, with a queue half- 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


33 


way clown his dark-green gold-laced coat, and with his long 
Jack-boots carefully settled by Palmer over the knee that 
would never cease to give him trouble. 

Thus he slowly ambled into the town, catching 07i his 
way distant toots of the postman^’s horn. In due time he 
made his way into the High Street, broad and unpaved, 
with rows of lime or poplar trees before the principal houses, 
the most modern of which were of red brick, with heavy 
sash-windows, large stone quoins, and steps up to the 
doors. 

The White Dragon, dating from the times of the Morti- 
mer badge, was built of creamy stone, and had an archway 
conducting the traveler into a court-yard worthy of Chaucer, 
with ranges of galleries running round it, the balustrades 
of dark carved oak suiting with the timbers of the latticed 
windows and gables, and with the noble outside stair at one 
angle, by which they communicated with one another. To 
these beauties the good major was entirely insensible. He 
only sighed at the trouble it gave his lame knee to mount 
the stair to the fii’st story, and desired the execution of the 
landlord's barbarous design of knocking down the street 
front to replace it with a plain, oblong assembly room, red 
brick outside, and within, blue plaster, adorned with 
wreaths and bullocks' faces in stucco. 

Such were the sentiments of most of the burly squires 
who had ridden in on the same errand, and throwing the 
reins to their grooms, likewise climbed the stair to the club- 
room with its oriel looking over the street. There too were 
several of the cathedral clergy, the rubicund double- 
chinned face of the canon in residence set off by a white, 
cauliflower wig luider a shovel hat, while the humbler 
minor canons (who served likewise as curates to all the 
country round) only powdered their own hair, and wore 
gowns and cassocks of quality very inferior to that which 
adorned the portly person of their superior. His white 
bands were of fine cambric, theirs of coarser linen; his 
stockings were of ribbed silk, theirs of black Worsted; his 
buckles of silver, theirs of steel; and the line of demarka- 
tion was as strongly marked as that between the neat, 
deferential tradesman, and the lawyer in his spruce snuff- 
colored coat, or the doctor, as black in hue as the clergy, 
thougliwith a secular cut, a smaller wig, and a gold-headed 
cane. Each had, as in duty bound, ordered his pint of 
2 


34 


LOVE ANB LIFE. 


port or claret for the good of the house, and it was well if 
these were not in the end greatly exceeded; and some had 
lighted long clay pipes; but these were mostly of the 
secondary rank, who sat at the table furthest from the win- 
dow, and whose drink was a measure of ale. 

The letters had not yet been sorted, but the newspaper 
had been brought in, and Canon Boltby had possessed him- 
self of it, and was proclaiming scraps of intelligence about 
the king, queen and Sir Robert Walpole, the character of 
Marshal Berwick, recently slain at Philipsburg, an account 
of Spanish outrages at sea, or mayhap the story of a mar- 
velous beast, half-tiger, half- wolf, reported to be running 
wild in France. The other gentlemen, waiting till the 
mail-bags were opened, listened and commented; while one 
or two of the squires, and a shabby, disreputable-looking 
minor canon made each notable name the occasion of a 
toast, whether of health to his majesty’s friends or confu- 
sion to his foes. A squabble, as to whether the gallant 
Berwick should be reckoned as an honest Frenchman or 
as a traitor Englishman, was interrupted by the major’s 
entrance, and the congratulations on his recovery. 

One of the squires inquired after his daughters, and pro- 
nounced that the little one with the outlandish name was 
becoming a belle, and would be the toast of the neighbor- 
hood, a hint of which the topers were too slow to take ad- 
vantage, while one of the guests at the recent party ob- 
served, “ Young Belamour seemed to be of that opinion.” 

“ May it be so,” said the canon, “ that were a step to 
the undoing: of a great wrong. ” 

“ Mr. Scrivener will tell you, sir, that there was no in- 
justice in the eye of the law,” said the major. 

^‘‘Bummum jus, summa injuria” quoted, sotto voce, 
Mr. Arden, a minor canon who, being well born, scholarly, 
scientific and gentlemanly, occupied a middle place be- 
tween his colleagues and the grandees. He was not listened 
to. Each knot of speakers was becoming louder in debate, 
and Dr. Boltby’s voice was hardly heard when he an- 
nounced that a rain of blood had fallen on the Macgilli- 
cuddy Mountains in Ireland, testified to by numerous re- 
spectable Protestant witnesses, and attributable, either to 
the late comet, or to the Pretender, 

At that moment the letters were brought in by the post- 
man, and each recipient had — not without murmurs — to 


LOVE A^TD LIFE. 


35 


produce his purse and pay heavily for them. There were 
not many. The doctor had two, Mr. Arden one, Mr. 
Scrivener no less than five, but of them two were franked, 
and a franked letter was likewise handed over to Major 
Delavie, with the word “ Aresfield " written in the corner. 

“ From my lady,^Vsaid an unoccupied neighbor. 

‘‘ Ay, ay,^^ said the major, putting it into his pocket, 
being by no means inclined to submit the letter to the gen- 
eral gaze. 

“ A good omen,^^ said Canon Boltby, looking up from 
his paper. And the major smiled in return, put a word 
or two into the discussion on foreign affairs, and then, as 
soon as he thought he could take leave without betraying 
anxiety, he limped down-stairs, and called for his horse. 
Lady Belamour^s letters were wont to be calls for money, 
not easily answered, and were never welcome sights, and 
this hung heavy in the laced pocket of his coat. 

Palmer met him at. the back gate, and took his horse, 
but Judged it advisable to put no questions about the news, 
while his master made bis way in by the kitchen entrance 
of the rambling old manor house, and entered a stone- 
paved low room, a sort of office or study, where he received, 
and paid, money for my lady, and smoked his pipe. Here 
he sat down in his wooden arm-chair, spread forth his legs, 
and took out the letter, opening it with careful avoidance 
of defacing the large red seal, covered with many quarter- 
ings, and the Delavie escutcheon of pretense reigning over 
all. 

It opened, as he expected, with replies to some matters 
about leases and repairs; and then followed: 

“1 am informed that you have a large Family, and 
Daughters growing up whom it is desirable io put in the 
way of making a good Match, or else an honorable Liveli- 
hood; I am therefore willing, for the Sake of Our Family 
Connection, to charge myself with your youngest Girl, whose 
Name I understand to be Aurelia. I will cause her to be 
trained in useful Works m my Household, expecting her, in 
return, to assist in the Care and Instruction of my young 
children; and if she please me and prove herself worthy 
and attentive, I will bestow her in Marriage upon some 
suitable Person. This is the more proper and convenient 
for you, because your Age and Health are such that I may 


36 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


not long be able to retain you in the Charge of my Estate — 
in which indeed you are continued only out of Consideration 
of an extremely distant Eelationship, although a younger 
and more active Man, bred to the Profession, would serve 
me far more profitably. 

When Betty came into the room a few minutes later to 
pull off her father ^s boots she found him sitting like one, 
transfixed. He held out the letter, saying, “ Bead that, 
child. 

Betty stood by the window and read, only giving one 
start, and muttering between her teeth, “ Insolent wom- 
an but not speaking the words aloud, for she knew her 
father would treat them as treason. He always had a cer- 
tain tender deference for his cousin TJrania, mixed with 
something akin to compunction, as if his loyalty to his 
betrothed had been disloyalty to his family. Thus, he ex- 
ceeded the rest of his sex in bluidness to the defects that 
had been so evident to liiswifo and daughter; and whatever 
provocation might make him say of my lady himself, he 
never permitted a word against her from any one else. He 
looked wistfully at Betty and said, “ My little Aura! It is 
a kindly thought. Her son must have writ of the cliild. 
But I had liefer she had asked me for the sight of my old 
eyes. 

“ The question is,^^ said Betty, hi clear, incisive tones, 
“ whether we surrender Aurelia or your situation 

“ Hay, nay, Betty, you always do my cousin less than 
justice. She means well by the cliild and by us all. Come, 
come, say what is in your mind, he added testily. 

“ Am I at liberty to express myself, sir?^^ 

- “Of course you are. I had rather hear the whole dis- 
charge of your battery than see you looking constrained 
and satirical. " 

“ Then, sir, my conclusion is this. The young baronet 
has shown himself smitten with our pretty Aurelia, and 
has spoken of tarrying on his return to make further 
acquaintance. My lady is afraid of his going to greater 
lengths, and therefore wishes to have her at her oto dis- 
posal. 

“ She proposes to take her into her own family; that is 
not taking her out of his way.^^ 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


37 


“ You are prejudiced, like your poor dear mother — the 
best of women, if only she could ever have done justice to 
her ladyship! DonH you see, child, Aurelia would not be 
gone before his return, supposing he should come this 
way. 

■ “ His visit was to be for six weeks. Did you not see the 
postscript?’’^ 

“No, the letter was enough for one while. 

“ Here it is: ‘I shall send Dove in the space of about a 
fortnight or three weeks to bring to town the young coach 
horses you mentioned. His wife is to return with him, as 
I have occasion for her in town, and your daughter must 
be ready to come up with them.^ ’ 

“Bless me! That is prompt! But it is thoughtful. 
Mrs. Dove is a good soul. It seems to me as if my lady, 
though she may not choose to say so, wishes to see the 
child, and if she approve of her, breed her up in the ac- 
comiolishments needed for such an elevation. 

“ If you hold that opinion, dear sir, it is well.^^ 

“ If I thought she meant other than kindness toward the 
dear maid, I had rather we all pinched together than risk 
the little one in her hands. I had rather — if it comes to that 
— live on a crust a day than part with my sweet child ; but 
if it were for her good, Betty! It is hard for you all three 
to be cooped up together here, with no means of improving 
your condition; and this may be an opening that I ought 
not to reject. What say you, Betty ?’^ 

“ If I were to send hei out into the world, I had rather 
bind her apprentice to the Misses Rigby to learn mantua- 
making. " 

“Nay, nay, my dear; so long as I live there is no need 
for my children to come to such straits. 

“ As long as you retain your situation, sir; but you per- 
ceive how my lady concludes her letter. 

“ An old song, Betty, which she sings whenever the coin 
does not come in fast enough to content her. She does 
not mean what she says; I know Urania of old. No; I 
will write back to her, thanking her for her good offices, 
but telling her my little girl is too young to be launched 
into the world as yet. Though if it were Harriet, she 
might not be unwilling. 

“ Harriet would be transported at the idea; but it is not 


38 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


she whom my lady wants. And indeed I had rather trust 
little Aurelia to take care of herself than poor Harriet. 

“We shall see! We shall see! Meantime, do not broach 
the subject to your sisters. 

Betty assented, and departed with a heavy heart, feeling 
that, whatever her father might believe, the choice would 
be between the sacrifice of Aurelia or of her father^s agency, 
which would involve the loss of home, of competence, and 
of the power of breeding up her darling Eugene according 
to his birth. She did not even know what her father had 
■written, and could only go about her daily occupations like 
one under a weight, listening to her sisters’ prattle about 
their little plans with a strange sense that everything was 
coming to an end, and constantly weighing the compara- 
tive evils of yielding or refusing Aurelia. 

Ho one would have more valiantly faced poverty than 
Elizabeth Delavie, had she alone been concerned. Cava- 
lier and Jacobite blood was in her veins, and her unselfish 
character had been trained by a stanch and seK-devoted 
mother. But her father’s age and Eugene’s youth made 
her waver. She might work her fingers to the bone, and 
live on oatmeal, to give her father the comforts he re- 
quired; but to have Eugene brought down from his nat- 
ural station was more than she could endure. His welfare 
must be secured at the cost not only of Aurelia’s sweet 
presence, but of her happiness; and Betty durst not ask 
herself what more she dreaded, knowing too that she would 
probably be quite incapable of altering her father’s deter- 
mination whatever it might be, and that he was inclined to 
trust Lady Belamour. The only chance of his refusal was 
that he should take alarm at the manner of requiring his 
daughter from him. 


CHAPTER V. 

THESUMMONS. 

But when the king knew that the thing must be, 

And that no help there was in this distress, 

He bade them have all things in readiness 
To take the maiden out. 

Mortss. 

The second Sunday of suspense had come. The Sun- 
days of good young ladies little resembled those of a cent- 


LOVE ANB LIFE. 


39 


iiry later, though they were not devoid of a calm peaceful- 
ness, worthy of the “ sweet day, so cool, so calm, so 
bright. The inhabited rooms of the old house looked 
bright and festal; there were fresh flowers in the beau - 
pots, honey as well as butter on the breakfast-table. The 
major and Palmer were both in full uniform, wonderfully 
preserved. Eugene, a marvel of prettiness, with his curled 
hair and little velvet coat, contrived by his sisters out of 
some ancestral hoard. Betty wore thick silk over brocade 
from the same store; Harriet a fresh gay chintz over a 
crimson skirt, and Aurelia was in spotless white, with a 
broad blue sash and blue ribbons in her hat, for her father 
liked to see her still a child; so her hair was only tied with 
blue, while that of her sisters was rolled over a cushion, and 
sli ’ ^ ^ 



near that the major could walk 


thither, leaning on his stout crutch-handled stick, and 
aided by his daughter's arm, as he proceeded down the 
hawthorn lane, sweet with the breath of May, exchanging 
greetings with whole families of the poor, the fathers in 
smock-frocks wrought with curious needle-work on the 
breast and back, the mothers in high-crowned hats and 
stout dark blue woolen gowns, the children, either patched 
or ragged, and generally barefooted, but by no means ill- 
fed. 

No Sunday-school had been invented. The dame who 
hobbled along in spectacles, dropping a low courtesy to the 

quality,^ ^ taught the horn-book and the primer to a 
select few of the progeny of the farmers and artisans, and 
the young ladies would no more have thought of assisting 
her labors than the blacksmith^ s. They only clubbed their 
pocket money to clothe and pay the schooling of one little 
orphan, who acknowledged them by a succession of the 
lowest bobs as she trotted past, proud as Margery Twoshoes 
herself of the distinction of being substantially shod. 

The church was small, and with few pretensions to archi- 
tecture at the best. It had been nearly a ruin, when, 
stirred by the major, the church- wardens had taken it in 
hand, so that, owing to Eichard Stokes and John Ball, as 
they permanently declared in yellow letters on a blue 
ground, the congregation were no longer in danger of the 
roof admitting the rain or coming down on the congrega- 
tion. They had further beautified the place with a huge 


40 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


board of the royal arms, and with Moses and Aaron in 
white cauliflower wigs presiding over the tables of the 
Commandments. Four long dark, timber pews and 
numerous benches, ruthlessly constructed out of old carv- 
ings, occupied the aisle, and the chancel was more than 
half fllled with the lofty closet of the Great House 
family. Hither the Delavie family betook themselves, and 
on their way Betty was startled by the recognition, in the 
seat reserved for the servants, of a broad back and curled 
wig that could belong to no one but Jonah Dove. She did 
her utmost to keep her mind from dwelling on what this 
might portend, though she followed the universal custom 
by exchanging nods and courtesies with the Duckworth 
family as she sailed up the aisle at the head of the little 
procession. 

There was always a little doubt as to who would serve 
the church. One of the canons was the incumbent, and 
the curate was Mr. Arden, the scientiflc minor canon, but 
when his services were required at the cathedral, one of his 
colleagues would supply his place, usually m a sadly per- 
functory manner. However, he was there in person, as his 
voice, a clear and pleasant one, showed the denizens of the 
“ closet,^^ for they could not see out of it, except where 
Eugene had furtively enlarged a moth-eaten hole in the 
curtain, through which, when standing on the seat, he 
could enjoy an obliq^ue view of the back of an iron-molded 
surplice and a very ill -powdered wig. This was a comfort 
to him. It would have been more satisfactory to have been 
able to make out whence came the sentorian A-men, that 
responded to the parson, totally unaccompanied saved by 
the good major, who always read his part as loud as the 
clerk, from a great octavo prayer-book, bearing on the lid 
the Delavie arms with coronet, supporters, and motto, 
“ Ma Vie et ma Mie.^^ It would have been thought un- 
lady-like, if not unscriptural, to open the lips in church; 
yet, for all her silence, good Betty was striving to be devout 
and attentive, praying earnestly for her little sister ^s safety, 
and hailing as a kind of hopeful augury this verse from 
the singers — 

“At home, abroad, in peace, in war, 

Thy God shall thee defend, 

Conduct thee through life’s pilgrimage 
Safe to thy journey’s end.” 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


41 


Much can not be said for the five voices that sung, nor 
for the two fiddles that accompanied them. Eugene had 
scarcely outgrown his terror at the strains, and still required 
Aurelia to hold his hand, under pretext of helping him to 
follow the words, not an easy thing, since the last lines were 
always repeated three or four times. 

Somehow the repetition brought them the more home to 
Betty^s heart, and they rang consolingly in her ears, all 
through the sermon, of which she took in so little that she 
never found out that it was an elaborate exposition of the 
Newtonian philosophy, including Mr. Arden^s views of the 
miracle at the battle of Beth-horon, in the lesson for the 
day. 

The red face and Belamour livery looked doubly ominous 
when she came out of church, but she had to give her arm 
to her father till they were overtaken by Mr. Arden, who 
always shared the Sunday roast beef and plum-pudding. 
Betty feared it was the best meal he had in the week, for 
he lived in lodgings, and his landlady was not too careful 
of his comforts, while he was wrapped up in his books and 
experiments. There was a hole singed in the comer of his 
black gown, which Eugene pointed out with great awe to 
Aurelia as they walked behind him. 

‘‘ See there. Aura. DonH you think he has been raising 
spirits, like Eriar Bacon 

‘‘ What do you know about Friar Bacon asked Har- 
riet. 

He is in a little book that I bought of the peddler. 
He had a brazen head that said — 

“ ‘Time is, 

Time was, 

Time will be.’ 

I wonder if Mr. Arden would show me one like it.’^ 

‘‘ You ridiculous little fellow to believe such trash I” said 
Harriet. 

‘‘ But, Hatty, he can really light a candle without a 
tinder-box,” said Eugene. “His landlady told Palmer 
so; and Palmer says the devil fiew away with Friar Bacon; 
but my book says he burned all his books and gave himself 
to the study of divinity, and dug his grave with his own 
nails. ” 


42 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


“ Little boys should not talk of such things on Sun- 
days/^ said Harriet, severely. 

‘‘ One does talk of the devil on Sunday, for he is in the 
catechism,^^ returned Eugene. ‘‘ If he carries Mr. Arden 
off, do you think there will be a great smoke, and that folk 
will see it?^^ 

Aurelia^s silvery peal of laughter fell sadly upon Betty’s 
ears in front, and her father and Mr. Arden turned to ask 
what made them so merry. Aurelia blushed in embarrass- 
ment, but Harriet was ready. 

“ You will think us very rude, sir, but my little brother 
has been reading the life of Friar Bacon, and he thinks you 
an equally great philosopher.” 

‘‘ Indeed, my little master, you do me too much honor. 
You will soon be a philosoj)her yourself. I did not expect 
so much attention in so young an auditor,” said Mr. 
Arden, thinking tliis the effect of his sermon on the solar 
system. 

Whereupon Eugene begged to inspect the grave he was 
digging with his own nails. 

They were at home by this time, and Betty was aware 
that they had been followed at a respectful distance by 
Palmer and the coachman. Anxious as she was, she could 
not bear that her father’s dinner should be spoiled, or that 
he, in his open-hearted way, should broach the matter with 
Mr. Arden; so she repaired to the garden gate, and on 
being told that Mr. Dove had a packet from my lady for 
the major, she politely invited him to dinner with the serv- 
ants, and promised that he father should see him afterward. 

This gave a long respite, since the servants had the re- 
version of the beef, so that Mr. Arden had taken leave, and 
gone to see a bedridden pauper, and the major had time 
for his forty winks, while Betty, though her heart throbbed 
hard beneath her tightly laced bodice, composed herself to 
hear Eugene’s catechism, and the two sisters, each with a 
good book, slipped out to the honeysuckle arbor in the gar- 
den behind the house. Harriet had “ Sherlock on 
Death, ” her regular Sunday study, though she never got 
any further than the apparition of Mrs. Veal, over which 
she gloated in a dreamy state; Aurelia’s study was a dark- 
covered, pale-lettered copy of the “ Ikon Basilike,” with 
the strange attraction that youth has to pain and sorrow, 
and sat musing over the resigned outpourings of the per- 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


43 


plexed and persecuted king, with her bright eyes fixed on 
the deep blue sky, and the honeysuckle blossoms gently 
waving against it, now and then visited by bee or butterfly, 
while through the silence came the throbbing notes of the 
nightingale, followed by its jubilant burst of glee, and the 
sweet distant chime of the cathedral bells rose and fell 
upon the wind. What peace and repose there was in all 
the air, even in the gentle breeze, and the floating motions 
of the swallows skimming past. 

The stillness was flrst broken by the jangle of their own 
little church-bell, for Mr. Arden was a more than usually 
diligent minister, and always gave two services when he 
w^as not in course at the cathedral. The young ladies 
alw^ays attended both, but as Harriet and Aurelia crossed 
the lawn, their brother ran to meet them, saying, “We are 
not to wait for sister. 

“ I hope my papa is well,^^ said Aurelia. 

“ Oh, yes," said Eugene, “ but the man in the gold-laced 
hat has been speaking with him. Palmer says it is Mrs. 
Dovers husband, and he is going to take Lively Tom and 
BroAvn Bet and the two other colts to London. He asked 
if I should like to ride a cock-horse there with him. 
‘ Dearly, ^ I said, and then he laughed and said it was not 
my turn, but he should take Miss Aurelia instead.^*’ 

Aurelia laughed, and Harriet said, “ Extremely impu- 
dent. 

Little she guessed what Betty was at that moment read- 
ing. 

“ I am astonished,-’^ wrote Lady Belamourto her cousin, 
“ that you should decline so highly advantageous an Offer 
for your Daughter. I can only understand it as a Token 
that you desire no further Connection with, nor Eavor 
from, me; and I shall therefore require of you to give up 
the Accounts, and vacate the House by Michaelmas next 
ensuing. However, as I am wilhng to allow some excuse 
for the AVeakness of parental Affection, if you change your 
Mind within the next Week and send up your Daughter 
with Dove and his AVife, I will overlook your flrst hasty 
and foolish Eefusal, ungrateful as it was, and will receive 
your Daughter and give her all the Advantages I prom- 
ised. Otherwise your Employment is at an end, and you 
had better prepare your Accounts for Hargrave^s Inspec- 
tion.^^ 


44 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


“ There is no help for it then/^ said Betty. 

“ And if it be for the child^s advantage, we need not 
make our moan/^ said her father. “ ^Tis like losing the 
daylight out of our house, but we must not stand in the 
way of her good.’^ 

“ If I were only sure it is for her good!^^ 

‘‘ Why, child, there^s scarce a wench in the county who 
would not go down on her knees for such a chance. See 
what Madame Duckworth would say to it for Miss Peggy 
Betty said no more. The result of her cogitations had 
been that since Aurelia must be yielded for the sake of her 
father and Eugene, it was better not to disturb him with 
fears, which would only anger him at the moment and dis- 
quiet him afterward. She was likewise reassured by Mrs. 
Dovers going with her, since that good woman had been 
nurse to the little Belamour cousins now deceased, and was 
well known as an excellent and trustworthy person, so that, 
if she were going to act in the same capacity to my lady^s 
second family, Aurelia would have a friend at hand. So 
the major cheated his grief by greeting the church-goers 
with the hilarious announcement — 

“ Kerens great news! What says my little Aura to going 
to London to my lady^s house. 

“ Oh, sir! are you about to take us?^^ 

“ Not I! My lady wants pretty young maidens, not bat- 
tered old soldiers. 

“ Nor my sisters? Oh, then, if you please, sir, I would 
rather not go!^^ 

“ Silly children ban not choose! No, no. Aura, you 
must go out and see the world, and come back to us such a 
belle tliat your poor old father will scarcely know you.-’^ 

“ I do not wish to be a belle, said the girl. “ Oh, sir, 
let me stay with you and sister. 

“ Do not be so foolish. Aura, put in Harriet. ‘‘ It will 
be the making of you. I wish I had the offer. 

“ Oh, Harriet, could not you go instead?^^ 

“ No, Aurelia, said Betty. There is no choice, and 
you must be a good girl and not vex my father. 

The gravity of her^ eldest sister convinced Aurelia that 
entreaties would be vain, and there was soon a general out- 
burst of assurances that she would see all that was delight- 
ful in London, the lions in the Tower, the new St. PauPs, 
the monuments, Banelagh, the court ladies, may be, the 


LOVE AND LIFE. 45 

king and queen themselves; until she began to feel exhila- 
rated and pleased at the prospect and the distinction. 

Then came Monday and the bustle of preparing her 
wardrobe. The main body of it was to be sent in the car- 
rier's wagon, for she was to ride on a pillion behind Mr. 
Dove, and could only take a valise upon a groom^’s horse. 
There was no small excitement in the arrangement, and in 
the farewells to the neighbors, who all agreed with Harriet 
in congratulating the girl on her promotion. Betty did her 
j)art with all her might, washed lace, and trimmed sleeves, 
and made tuckers, giving little* toilet counsels, while her 
heart ached sorely all the time. 

When she could speak to Mrs. Dove alone, she earnestly 
besought that old friend to look after the child, her health, 
her dress, and above all to supply her lack of experience 
and give her kind counsel and advice. 

“1 will mdeed, ma^am, as though she were my own,^^ 
promised Mrs. Dove. 

“ Oh, nurse, I give my sweet jewel to your care; you know 
what a great house in London is better than I do. You 
will warn her of any danger. 

“ I will do my endeavor, ma^am. We servants see and 
hear much, and if any harm should come nigh the sweet 
young miss, ITl do my best for her. 

Thank you, nurse, I shall bid her listen to you as to 
me; I shall never, never see her more in her free artless 
childishness,'’^ said Betty, sobbing as if her heart would 
break; “ but oh, nurse, I can bear the thought better since 
I have known that you would be near her. 

And at night, when her darling nestled for the last time 
in her arms, the elder sister whispered her warnings. Her 
knowledge of the great world was limited, but she believed 
it to be a very wicked place, and she profoundly distrusted 
her brilliant kinswoman; yet her warnings took no shape 
more definite than — “ My. dearest sister will never forget 
her prayers nor her Bible. •” There was a soft response and 
fresh embrace at each pause. “Nor play cards of a Sun- 
day, nor ever play high. And my Aura must be deaf to 
rakish yoimg beaus and their compliments. They never 
mean well by poor pretty maids. If you believe them, they 
will only mock, fiout, and jeer you in the end. And if the 
young baronet should seek converse with you, promise me, 


46 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


oil, promise me, Aurelia,, to grant him no favor, no, not so 
much as to hand him a flower, or stand chatting with him 
unknown to his mother. Promise me again, child, for 
naught save evil can come of any trifling between you. 
And, Aurelia, go to Nurse Dove in all your difiiculties. 
She can advise you where your poor sister can not. It will 
ease my heart if I know that my child will attend to her. 
You will not let yourself be puffed up with flattery, nor be 
offended if she be open and round with you. Think that 
your poor sister Betty speaks in her. Pray our old prayers, 
go to church, and read your Psalms and Lessons daily, and 
oh! never, never cheat your conscience. Oh, may God, in 
His mercy, keep my darling 

So Aurelia cried herself to sleep, while Betty lay awake 
till the early hour in the morning when all had to be pre- 
pared for the start. There was to be a ride of an hour 
and a half before breakfast so as to give the horses a rest. 
It was a terrible separation, in many respects more com- 
plete than if Am*elia had been going, in these days, to 
America; for communication by letter was almost as slow, 
and infinitely more expensive. 

No doubt the full import of what he had done had 
dawned even on Major Delavie during the watches of that 
last sorrowful night, for he came out a pale, haggard man, 
looking as if his age had doubled since he went to bed, 
wrapped in his dressing-gown, his head covered with his 
night-cap, and leaning heavily on his staff. He came 
charged with one of the long solemn discourses which par- 
ents were wont to bestow on their children as valedictions, 
but when Aurelia, in her camlet riding-cloak and hood, 
brought her tear-stained face to crave his blessing, he could 
only utter broken fragments. ‘‘ Bless thee, my child! 
Take heed to yourself and your ways. It is a badAvorld, 
beset with temptations. Oh! Heaven forgive me for send- 
ing my innocent lamb out into it. Oh! what would your 
blessed mother say !^ ^ 

‘‘ Dear sir,^" said Betty, who had wept out her tears, 
and was steadily composed now, “ this is no time to think 
of that. We must only cheer up our darling, and give her 
good counsel. If she keep to what her Bible, her cate- 
chism and her conscience tell her, she will be a good girl, 
and God will protect her. 

‘‘ True, true, your sister is right; Aura, my little sweet- 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


47 


heart, I had much to say to you, but it is all driven out of 
my poor old head."^ 

“ Aura! Aura! the horses are coming! Ten of them!^^ 
shouted Eugene. “Come along! Oh! if I were but go- 
ing! How silly of you to cry; I don't. " 

“ There! there! Go, my child, and God in His mercy 
protect you!" 

Aurelia in speechless grief passed from the arms of one 
sister to the embrace of the other, hugged Eugene, was 
kissed by Nannerl, who forced a great piece of cake into 
her little bag, and finally was lifted to her pillion cushion 
by Palmer who stole a kiss of her hand before Dove put 
his horse in motion, while Betty was still commending her 
sister to his wife's care, and receiving reiterated promises 
of care. 


CHAPTER. VI. 

DISAPPOINTED LOVE. 

I know thee well, thy songs and sighs, 

A ivicked god thou art; 

And yet, most pleasing to the eyes. 

And witching to the heart, 

W . Mackworth Praed. 

The house was dull when Aurelia was gone. Her father 
was ill at ease and therefore testy, Betty too sore at heart 
to endure as cheerfully as usual his unwonted ill-humoi*. 
Harriet was petulant, and Eugene troublesome, and the 
two were constantly jarring against one another, smce the 
one missed her companion, the other his playmate; and 
they were all more sensible than ever how precious and 
charming an element was lost to the family circle. 

On the next ensuing Sunday, Eugene had made himself 
extremely obnoxious to Harriet, by persisting in kicking up 
the dust; and Betty, who had gone on before with her father, 
was availing herself of the shelter of the great pew to brush 
with a sharp hand the dust from the little ofiending legs, 
when, even in the depths of their seclusion, the whole party 
were conscious of a sort of breathless soimd of surprise 
and admiration, a sweep of bows and courtesies, and the 
measured tread of boots and clank of sword and spuTs com- 
ing nearer — ^yes, to the very chancel. Their very door 
was opened by the old clerk with the most obsequious of 


48 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


reverences, and there entered a gorgeous vision of scarlet 
and gold, bowing gracefully with a wave of a cocked and 
plumed hat ! 

The major started, and was moving out of his corner — 
the seat of honor — but the stranger forbade this by another 
gesture, and took his place, after standing for a moment 
with his face hidden in his hat. Then he took an anxious 
survey, not without an almost imperceptible elevation of 
eyebrow and shoulder, as if disappointed, and accepted the 
Prayer-book which the major olfered him. 

Betty kept her eyes glued to her book, and when that 
was not in use, upon the mittened hands crossed before 
her, resolute against distraction, and every prayer turning 
into a petition for her sister ^s welfare; but Eugene gazed, 
open-eyed and open-mouthed, oblivious of his beloved hole, 
and Harriet, though keeping her lids down, and her book 
open, contrived to make a full inspection of the splendid 
apparition. 

It was tall and slight, youthfully undeveloped, yet with 
the grace of personal symmetry, high breeding, and mili- 
tary training, upright without stiffness, with a command 
and dexterity of movement wliich prevented the sword and 
spurs from being the aimoyance to liis pew -mates that 
country awkwardness usually made these appendages. 
The spurs were on cavalry boots, guarding the knee, and 
met by white buckskins, both so little dusty that there 
could have been no journey that morning. The bright 
gold-laced scarlet coat of the Household troops entirely 
effaced the major^s old Austrian uniform; and over it, the 
hair, of a light golden brown, was brushed back, tied with 
black ribbon, and hung down far behind in a queue, onty 
leaving little gold rings curhng on the brow and temples. 
The face was modeled hke a cameo, faultless in the out- 
lines, with a round peach-like fresh contour and bloom on 
the fair cheek, which had much of the child, though with 
a firmness in the lip, and strength in the brow, that prom- 
ised manliness. Indeed there was a wonderful blending of 
the beauty of manhood and childhood about the youth; and 
his demeanor was perfectly decorous and reverent, no small 
merit in a young officer and London beau. Indeed Betty 
could almost have forgotten his presence, if gleams from 
his glittering equipments had not kept glancing before her 
eyes turn them where she would, and 3 Mr. Arden’s ser- 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


49 


mon had not been on Solomon^ s extent of natural philoso- 
phy, and so full of Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, that she 
could not follow it at all. 

Aftp’ the blessing, the young gentleman, with a bow, 
the pink of courtesy, offered a hand to lead her out, nor 
could she refuse, though, to use her own expression, she 
hated the absurdity of mincing down the aisle with a fine 
young spark looking like her grandson; while her poor 
father had to put . up with Harrietts arm. Outside came 
the greetings, the flourish of the hat, the “ I may venture 
to introduce myself and to beg of you, sir, and of my fair 
cousins, to excuse my sudden intrusion. 

“ No apology can be needed for your appearance in your 
own pew, tSir Amyas,^^ said the major with outstretched 
hand; ‘‘ it did my heart good to see you there 

“ I would not have taken you thus by surprise, contin- 
ued the youth, “but one of my horses lost a shoe yester- 
day, and we were constrained to halt at Portkiln for the^ 
night, and ride on this morning. Herries went on to the 
deanery, and I hoped to have seen you before church, but 
found you had already entered."’^ 

Portkiln was so near, that this Sabbath day’s journey 
did not scandalize Petty, and her father eagerly welcomed 
his kinsman, and insisted that he should go no further. 
Sir Amyas accepted the invitation, nothing loath, only ask- 
ing, with a little courtly diffidence, if it might not be con- 
venient for him to sleep at the Great House, and begging 
the ladies to excuse his riding-dress. 

His eyes wandered anxiously as though in search of 
something in the ihidst of all his civility, and while the 
major was sending Eugene to bring Mr. Arden — who was 
hanging back at the church-yard gate, unwilling to thrust 
himself forward — the faltering question was put, while- the 
cheeks colored like a girl’s, “ I hope my fair partner, my 
youngest cousin. Miss Aurelia Delavie, is in good health.^” 

“ We hope so, sir, thank you,” returned Betty; “ but 
she left us six days ago.” 

“ Left you!” he repeated, in consternation that over- 
powered his courtliness. 

“Yes, sir,” said Harriet, “ my lady, your mother, has 
been good enough to send for her to London. ” 

“ My lady!” he murmured to himself; “ I never thought 
of that! How and when did she go?” 


50 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


The answer was interrupted by the major coming up. 
‘‘ Sir Amyas Belamour, permit me to present to you the 
Reverend Richard Arden, the admirable divine to whom 
we are beholden for the excellent and learned discourse of 
this morning. YouTl not find such another scholar in all 
Carminster. 

“ I am highly honored/^ returned the baronet, with a 
bow in return for Mr. Arden^s best obeisance, such as it 
was; and Harriet, seeing Peggy Duckworth in the distance, 
plumed herself on her probable envy. 

Before dinner was served Sir Amyas had obtained infor- 
mation as to Aurejia^s departure, and even as to the road 
she had taken, and he had confessed that, ‘ ‘ Of course he 
had writ to his mother that he had danced with the most 
exquisitely beautiful creature he had ever seen, and that he 
longed to know liis cousins better. Ho doubt his mother, 
having been thus reminded of her connections, had taken 
the opportunity of summoning Aurelia to London to give 
her the advantages of living in her household and acquiring 
accomplishments. The lad was so much delighted at the 
prospect of enjoying her society that he was almost con- 
soled for not finding her at the manor house; and his 
elaborate courtesy became every moment less artificial and 
more affectionate, as the friendly atmosphere revealed that 
the frankness and simplicity of the boy had not been lost, 
captain in the dragoon guards as he was, thanks to interest, 
though he had scarcely yet joined his troop. He had been 
with a tutor in the country, until two years ago, when his 
step-father, Mr. Wayland, had taken him, still with his 
tutor, on the expedition to the Mediterranean. He had 
come home from Gibraltar, and joined his regiment only a 
few weeks before setting out with his friend Captain Her- 
ries, to visit Battlefield, Lady Aresfield's estate in Mon- 
mouthshire. He was quartered in the Whitehall barracks, 
but could spend as much time as he pleased at his mother^s 
house in Hanover Square. 

Bett/s mind misgave her as she saw the brightening eye 
with which he said it; but she could not but like the youth 
himself, he was so bright, unspoiled, and engaging that 
she could not think him capable of doing willful wrong to 
her darling. Yet how soon would the young soldier, 
plunged into the midst of fashionable society, learn to look 
on the fair girl with the dissipated eyes of his associates? 


LOVE AKB LIFE. 


There was some comfort in finding that Mr. Wayland was 
expected to return in less than a year, and that his step-son 
seemed to regard him with unbounded respect, as a good, 
just, and wise man, capable of everything! Indeed Sir 
Amyas enlightened Mr. Arden on the scientific construction 
of some of Mr. Wayland^s inventions so as to convince both 
the clergyman and the soldier that the lad himself was no 
fool, and had profited by his opportunities. 

Major Delavie produced his choice Tokay, a present 
from an old Hungarian brother-officer, and looked happier 
than since Aurelia ^s departure. He was no match-maker, 
and speculated on no improbable contingencies for his 
daughter, but he beheld good hopes for the Delavie prop- 
erty and tenants in an heir such as this, and made over his 
simple loyal heart to the young man. Presently he inquired 
whether the unfortunate Mr. Bel amour still maintained his 
seclusion. 

“ Yes, sir,^^ was the reply. “ He still lives in two dark 
rooms with shutters and curtains excluding every ray of 
light. He keeps his bed for the greater part of the day, 
but sometimes on a very dark night, will take a turn on 
the terrace. 

‘‘ Poor gentleman said Betty. “Has he no employ- 
ment or occupation 

“ Mr. Wayland contrived a raised chess and draught- 
board, and persuaded him to try a few games before we 
went abroad, but I do not know whether he has since con- 
tinued it. 

“ Does he admit any visits?^^ 

“ Oh, no. He has been entirely shut up, except from 
the lawyer, Hargrave, on business. Mr. Wayland, indeed, 
strove to rouse him from his despondency, but without suc- 
cess, except that latterly he became, willing to receive him. 

“ Have you ever conversed with him?'’^ 

There was an ingenuous blush as the young man re- 
plied, “ I fear I must confess myself remiss. Mr. Way- 
land has sometimes carried me with him to see my uncle, 
but not with my good-will, and my mother objected lest it 
should break my spirits. However, when ! left Gibraltar, 
my good father charged me to endeavor from time to time 
to enliven my uncle^s solitude, but there were impediments 
to my going to him, and I take shame to myself for not 
having striven to overcome them. 


52 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


“ Rightly spoken, my young kinsman, cried the major. 

There are no such impediments as a man ^s own distaste."’^ 

‘‘ And pity will remove that,^^ said Betty. 

Soon after the removal of the cloth the ladies withdrew, 
and Eugene was called to his catechism, hut he was soon 
released, for the Tokay had made her fathei* sleepy, while 
it seemed to have emboldened Mr. Arden, since he came 
forth with direct intent to engross Harriet; and Sir Amyas 
wandered toward Betty, apologizing for the interruption. 

“ It is a rare occasion, said she as her pupil scampered 
away. 

“ Happy child, to be taught by so good a sister,” said 
the young baronet, regretfully. 

“ Your young half-brothers and sisters must be of about 
the same age,'’ ^ said Betty. 

‘‘ My little brother. Archer, is somewhat younger. He 
is \vith my mother in London, the darling of the ladies, 
who think him a perfect beauty, and laugh at all his mis- 
chievous pranks. As to my little sisters, you will be sur- 
prised to hear that I have only seen them once, when I 
rode with their father to see them at the farm-houses at 
which they are nursed.’^ 

“No doubt they are to be fetched home, since Mrs. Dove 
is gone to wait on them, and my lady said something of in- 
tending my sister to be with her young children.'’^ 

“Nay, she must have no such troublesome charge. My 
mother can not intend anything of the kind. I shall see 
that she is treated as — 

Betty, beginning to perceive that he knew as little of his 
own mother as did the rest of his sex, here interrupted 
him. “ Excuse me, sir, I doubt not of your kind inten- 
tions, but let me speak, for Aurelia is a very precious child 
to me, and I am afraid that any such attempt on your part 
might do her harm rather than good. She must be con- 
tent with the lot of a poor dependent. ” 

“ Never!” he exclaimed. “ She is a Delavie; and be- 
sides, no other ever shall be my wife. ” 

“ Hush, hushP^ Betty had been saying before the words 
were out of his mouth. “ You are but a silly boy, begging 
your honoris pardon, though you speak, I know, with all 
your heart. What would your lady mother say or do to 
my poor little sister if she heard you?” 


LOVE AND LIFE. 53 

She could but send her home, and then flood and fire 
could not hold me from her. 

“ I wish that were the worst she could do. No, Sir 
Amyas Belamour, if you have any kindness for the poor 
helpless girl under your mother’s roof, you will make no 
advance to excite alarm or anger against her. Remember 
it is she who will be the sufl'erer and not yourself. The 
woman, however guiltless, is sure to fall under suspicion 
and bear the whole penalty. And oh! what would become 
of her, defenseless, simple, unprotected as she is?” 

“ Yet you sent her!” said he. 

‘‘Yes,” said Betty, sadly, “ because there was no other 
choice between breaking with my lady altogether. ” 

He made an ejaculation under his breath, half sad, half 
violent, and exclaimed, “ Would that I were of age, or my 
father were returned. ” 

“ But now you, know all, you will leave my child in 
peace,” said Betty. 

“ What, you would give me no hope!” 

“ Only such as you yourself have held out,” said Betty. 
“ When you are your own master, if you keep in the same 
mind till then, and remain truly worthy, T can not tell 
what my father would answer. ” 

“ I am going to speak to him this very day. I came 
with that intent. ” 

“Do no such thing, I entreat,” cried Betty. “ He 
would 'immediately think it his duty to inform my lady. 
Then no protestation would persuade her that we had not 
entrapped your youth and innocence. His gray head 
would be driven out without a shelter, and what might 
not be the consequence to my sister? You could not helj) 
us, and could only make it worse. No, do nothing rash, 
incautious, or above all, disobedient. It Would be self-love, 
not true love that would risk bringing her into peril and 
trouble when she is far out of reach of all protection. ” 

“Trust me, trust me. Cousin Betty, ” cried the youth. 

“ Only let me hope, and I’ll be caution itself; but oh! 
what an endless eternity is two years to wait without a 
sign!” 

But here ajopeared the major, accompanied by Captain 
Ilerries and Dean Churchill, who had ordered out his 
coach, Sunday though it were, to pay his respects to my 
lady’s son, and carry him and his hosts back to sup at the 


54 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


deanery. It was an age of adulation, but Betty was thank- 
ful that perilous conversations were staved off. 


CHAPTER VII. 

ALL ALQl^^E. 

By the simplicity of Venus’s doves. 

Merchant of Venice. 

That Sunday was spent by Aurelia at the Bear Inn, at 
Reading. Her journey had been made by very short stages, 
one before breakfast, another lasting till noon, when there 
was a long halt for dinner and rest for horse and rider, and 
then another ride, never even in these longest summer days 
prolonged beyond six or seven o^ clock at latest, such was 
the danger of highwaymen being attracted by the valuable 
horses, although the grooms in charge were so well armed 
that they might almost as well have been troopers. 

The roads, at that time of year, were at their best, and 
Aurelia and Mrs. Dove were mounted on steady old nags, 
accustomed to pillions. Aurelia could have ridden single, 
but this would not have been thought fitting on a journey 
with no escort of her own rank, and when she mounted she 
was far too miserable to care for anything but liiding her 
tearful face behind Mr. Dover’s broad shoulders. Mrs. Dove 
was perched behind a wiry, light-weighted old groom, whom 
she kept in great order, much to his disgust. 

After the first wretchedness, Aurelia^s youthful spirits 
had begun to revive, and the novel scenes to awaken inter- 
est. The Glastonbury thorn was the first thing she really 
looked at. The abbey was to her only an old Gothic mel- 
ancholy ruin, not worthy of a glance, but the breezy air of 
the Cheddar hills, the lovely cliffs, and the charm of the 
open country, with its strange islands of hills dotted about, 
raised her spirits, as she rode through the meadows where 
hay was being tossed, and the scent came fragrant on the 
breeze. Mr. Dove would tell her over his shoulder the 
names of places and their owners when they came to parks 
bordering the road, and castles “ bosomed high in tufted 
trees. Or he would regale her with legends of robberies 
and point to the frightful gibbets, once so near to the road 
that she shut her eyes and crouched low behind him to 
avoid seeing the terrible burden. She had noted the 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


55 


White Horse, and shuddered at the monument of Devizes 
commemorating the judgment on the lying woman, and a 
night had been spent at Marlborough that ‘‘ Miss " might 
see a strolling company of actors perform in a barn; but as 
the piece was the “ Yorkshire Tragedy, the ghastly per- 
formance overcame her so completely that Mrs. Dove had 
to take her away, declaring that no inducement should ever 
take her to a theater again. 

Mr. Dove was too experienced a traveler not to choose 
well his quarters for the night, and Aurelia slept in guest 
chambers shining with cleanliness and scented with 
lavender, Mrs. Dove always sharing her room. “ Miss 
was treated with no small regard, as a lady of the good old 
blood, and though the coachman and his wife talked freely 
with her, they paid her all observance, never ate at the 
same table, and provided assiduously for her comfort and 
pleasure. Once they halted a whole day because even Mr. 
Dove was not proof, against the allurements of a bull-bait- 
ing, though he carefully explained that he only made a 
concession to the grooms to prevent them from getting dis- 
contented, and went himself to the spectacle to hinder them 
from getting drunk, in which, be it observed, he did not 
succeed. 

So much time was spent on thus creeping from stage to 
stage that Aurelia had begun to feel as if the journey had 
been going on for ages, and as if worlds divided her from 
her home, when on Sunday she timidly preceded Mrs. Dove 
into Reading Abbey Church, and afterward was shown where 
rolled Father Thames. The travelers took early morning 
with them for Maidenhead Thicket, and breakfasted on 
broiled trout at the King^s Arms at Maidenhead Bridge, 
while Aurelia felt her eye filled with the beauty of the broad 
glassy river, and the wooded banks, and then rode onward, 
looking with loyal awe at majestic Windsor, where the flag 
was flying. They slept at a poor httle inn at Longford, 
rather than cross Hounslow Heath in the evening, and there 
heard all the last achievements of the thieves, so that 
Aurelia, in crossing the next day, looked to see a masked 
highwayman start out of every bush; but they came safely 
to the broad archway of the inn at Knightsbridge, their last 
stage. Mrs. Dove took her charge upstairs at once to re- 
fresh her toilet, before entering London and bemg presented 
to my lady. 


56 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


But a clattering and stamping were heard in the yard, 
and Aurelia, looking from the window, called Mrs. Dove 
to see four horses being harnessed to a coach that was stand- 
ing there. 

‘‘ Lawk-a-day!^^ cried the good woman, “ if it be notour 
own old coach, as was the best in poor Sir Jovian^ s time! 
Ay, there be our colors, you see, blue and gold, and my 
hidy^s quartering. Why, ^twas atop of that veiy blue ham- 
mercloth that I first set eyes on my Dove! So my lady 
has sent to meet you, missie. Well, I do take it kind of 
her. Now you will not come in your riding-hood, all 
frowsed and dusty, but can put on your pretty striped sack 
and blue hood that you wore on Sunday, and look the sweet 
23retty lady you are. 

Mrs. Dovers intentions were frustrated, for the maid of 
the inn knocked at the door with a message that the coach 
had orders not to wait, but that miss was to come down 
immediately. 

‘‘ Dear, dear!^^ sighed Mrs. Dove. “ Tell the jacka- 
napes not to be so hasty. He must give the yomig lady 
time to change her dress, and eat a mouthful. 

This brought Dove up to the door. “ Never mind dress- 
ing and fallals,^^he said; “this is a strange fellow that 
says he is hired for the job, and his orders are precise. 
Miss must take a bit of cake in her hand. Oome, dame, 
you have not lived so long in my lady^s service as to forget 
what it is to cross her will, or keep her waiting. 

Therewith he hurried Aurelia down-stairs, his wife being 
in such a state of deshahille that she could not follow. He 
handed the young lady into the carriage, gave her a parcel 
of slices of bread and meat, with a piece of cake, shut the 
door, and said, “ Be of good heart, missie, wefil catch you 
up by the time you are in the square. All right !^^ 

Off went Aurelia in solitude, within a large carriage, 
once gayly fitted though now somewhat faded and tarnished. 
She was sorry to be parted from the Doves, whom she 
wanted to give her courage for the introduction to my lady, 
and to explain to her the wonders of the streets of London, 
which she did not quite expect to see paved with gold! 
She eat her extemporized meal, gazing from the window, 
and expecting to see houses and churches thicken on her, 
and huiTjing to brush away her crumbs, and put on her 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


57 


gloves lest she should arrive unawares, for she had counted 
half a dozen houses close together. No! here was another 
field! More fields and houses. The signs of habitation 
were, so far from increasing, growing more scanty, and 
looked strangely like what she had before passed. Could 
this be the right road? How foolish to doubt, when this 
was my lady^s own coach! But oh, that it had waited for 
Mrs. Dove! She would beg her to get in when the riders 
overtook her. When would they? No sign of them could 
be seen from the windows, and here were more houses. 
Surely this was Turnham Green again, or there must be 
another village green exactly like it in the heart of London. 
How many times did not poor Aurelia go through all these 
impressions in the course of her drive. She was absolutely 
certain that she was taken through Brentford again, this 
time without a halt; but after this the country became un- 
known to her, and the road much worse. It was in fact 
for the most part a mere ditch or cart track, so rough that 
the four horses came to a walk. Aurelia had read no 
novels but “ Telemaque and “ Le Grand Cyrus, so her 
imagination was not terrified by tales of abduction, but 
alarm began to grow upon her. . She much longed to ask 
the coachman whither he was taking her, but the check- 
string had been either worn out or removed; she could not 
open the (k)or from within, nor make him hear, and in- 
deed she was a little afraid of him. 

Twilight began to come on; it was much later than Mr. 
Dove had ever ventured to be out,* but here at last there 
was a pause, and the swing of a gate, the road was 
smoother and she seemed to be in a wood, probably private 
ground. On and on, for an apparently interminable time, 
went the coach with the wearied and affrighted girl, 
through the dark thicket, until at last she emerged, into a 
park, where she could again see the pale after-glow of the 
sunset, and presently she found herself before a tall house, 
perfectly dark, with strange fantastic gables and chimneys, 
ascending far above against the sky. 

All was still as death, except the murmuring caws of the 
rooks in their nests, and the chattering shriek of a startled 
blackbird. The servant from behind ran up the steps and 
thundered at the door; it was opened, a broad line of light 
shone out, some figures appeared, and a man in livery came 
forward to open the carriage door, but to Aurelia’s inex- 


58 


LOVE AKO LIFE. 


pressible liorror, liis face was perfectly blacky with negro 
features, rolling eyes, and great white teeth ! 

She hardly knew what she did, the dark carriage was 
formidable on one side, the apparition on the other! The 
only ray of comfort was in the face of a stout, comely, rosy 
maid-servant, who was holding the candle on the threshold, 
and with one bound the poor traveler dashed past the black 
hand held out to help her, and rushing up to the girl, 
caught hold of her, and gasped out, “ Oh! What is that? 
Where am I? Where have they taken me?^-’ 

‘‘ Lawk, ma^am,” said the girl, with a broad grin, 
“ that ^ere bees only Mr. Jumbo. wonT hurt^ee. See, 
here^s Mistress Ayl ward. 

A tall, white-capped, black-gowned elderly woman 
turned on the new-comer a pale, grave, unsmiling face, 
saying, ‘ ‘ Your servant — Miss Aurelia Delavie, as I under- 
stand. 

Bending her head, and scarcely able to steady herself, for 
she was shaking from head to foot, Aurelia managed to 
utter the query, 

“Where am I?^^ 

“ At Bowstead Park, madame, by order of my lady.^^ 

Much relieved, and knowing this was the Belamour es- 
tate, Aurelia said, “ Please let me wait till Mrs. Dove 
comes before I am presented to my lady.^^ 

“ My lady is not here, madame, said Mrs* Aylward. 
“ Allow me — and she led the way across a great empty 
hall, that seemed the vaster for its obscurity, then along a 
matted passage, and down some steps into a room sur- 
rounded with presses and cupboards, evidently belonging 
to the housekeeper. She set a chair for the trembling 
girl, saying, “You will excuse the having supper here to- 
ir'ght, madame; the south parlor will be ready for you to- 
morrow. 

“ Is not Mrs. Dove coming faintly asked Aurelia. 

“ Mrs. Dove is gone to London to attend on little Master 
A\’ayland. You are to be here with the young ladies, 
ma'am. 

“ What young ladies?^^ asked the bewildered maiden. 

“My lady’s little daughters — the Misses Wayland. I 
thought she had sent you her instructions; but I see you 
are overwearied and daunted,” she added, more kindly; 
“ you will be better when you have taken some food. Molly, 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


59 


I say, you sluggard of a wench, bring the lady’s supper, 
and don’t stand gaping there. ” 

Mrs. Aylward hurried away to hasten operations, and 
Aurelia began somewhat to recover her senses, though she 
was still so much dismayed that she dreaded to look up 
lest she should see something frightful, and started at the 
first approach of steps. 

A dainty little supper was placed before her, but she was 
too faint and sick at heart for appetite, and would have 
excused herself. However, Mrs. Aylward severely said 
she would have no such folly, filled a glass of wine, 
and sternly administered it; then setting her down in 
a large chair, helped her to a delicate cutlet. She eat 
for very fright, but her cheeks and eyes were brightened, 
the mists of terror and exhaustion began to clear away, and 
when she accepted a second help, she had felt herself re- 
assured that she had not fallen into unkindly hands. If 
she could only have met a smile she would have been easier, 
hut Mrs. Aylward was a woman of sedate countenance and 
few words, and the straight set hne of lips encouraged no 
so she merely uttered thanks for each act of 

! You will take no more roll? You are bet- 
ter, now, but you will not be sorry to go to your bed,” said 
Mrs. Aylward, taking up a candle, and guiding her alonsr 
the passage up a long stair to a pretty room wainscoted 
and curtained with fresh white dimity, and the window 
showing the young moon pale in the light of the western sky. 

Bedrooms were little furnished, and this was more lux- 
urious than the dear old chamber at home, but the girl had 
never before slept alone, and she felt unspeakably lonely hi 
the dreariness, longing more than ever for Betty’s kiss — 
even for Betty’s blame — or for a whine from Harriet; 
and she positively hungered for a hug from Eugene, as she 
gazed timidly at the corners beyond the mfluence of her 
candle; and instead of unpacking the little riding mail she 
kissed it, and laid her cheek on it as the only thing that 
came from home, and burst into a fiood of despairing tears. 

In the midst, there fell on her ears a low strain of 
melanclioly music rising and falling like the wailing of 
mournful spirits. She sprung to her feet and stood listen- 
ing with dilated eyes; then, as a louder note reached her, in 
terror uncontrollable, she caught up her candle, rushed 


hospitality 

‘^There 


60 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


down the stairs like a wild bird, and stood panting before 
Mrs. Aylward, who had a big Bible open on the table be- 
fore her. 

“ Oh, ma^am,^^ she cried, between her panting sobs, ‘‘ I 
can ^t stay there! I shall die I’ ^ 

‘‘ What means this, madame?^^ said Mrs. Aylward, 
stiffly, making the word sound much like ‘‘ foolish child. 

“ The — the music she managed faintly to utter, fall-, 

ing again into the friendly chair. 

‘‘ The music?^^ said Mrs. Aylward, considering; then 
with a shade of polite contempt, “ Oh! Jumbo^s fiddle! I 
did not know it could be heard in your room, but no doubt 
the windows below are open.^^ 

“Is Jumbo that black man?^^ asked Aurelia, shudder- 
ing; for negro servants, though the fashion in town, had 
not penetrated into the west. 

“ Mr. Belamour^s blackamoor. He often plays to him 
half the night. ” 

' “ Oh!^^ with another quivering sound of alarm; “ is Mr. 
Belamour the gentleman in the dark?’"’ 

“ Even so, madame, but yoii need have no fears. He 
keeps his room and admits no one, though he sometimes 
walks out by night. You will only have to keep the chil- 
dren from making a noise near his apartments. Good- 
night, madame.’’^ 

“ Oh, pray, if I do not disturb you, would you be pleased 
to let me stay till you have finished your chapter; I might 
not be so frightened then. ■’ ^ 

In common humanity Mrs. Aylward could not refuse, 
and Aurelia sat silently grasping the arms of her chair, 
and trying to derive all the comfort she could from the 
presence of a Bible and a good woman. Her nerves were, 
in fact, calmed by the interval, and when Mrs. Aylward 
took olf her spectacles and shut up her' book, it had become 
possible to endure the terrors of the lonely chamber. 


CHAPTEK VHI. 

THE ENCHANTED CASTLE. 

A little she began to lose her fear. 

Morris. 

Aurelia slejit till she was wakened by a bounce at the 
door, and the rattlhig of the lock, but it was a little child "s 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


61 


voice that was crying, “ I will! I will! I will go in and see 
my cousin !^^ 

Then came Mrs. Aylward^s severe voice: “No, miss, 
you are not to waken your cousin. Come away. Where 
is that slut, Jenny?^^ 

Then there was a scuffle and a howl, as if the child were 
being forcibly carried away. Aurelia sprung out of bed, 
for sunshine was flooding the room, and she felt account- 
able for tardiness. She had made some progress in dress- 
ing, when again little hands were on the lock, little feet 
kicking the door, and little voices calling, “ Let me in.^^ 

She opened the door, and at sight of her, three small 
figures in round night-caps, and white night-gowns, all tum- 
bled back one over the other. 

“ My little cousins, she said, “ come and kiss me.^^ 

One came forward, and lifted up a sweet little pale face, 
but the other two stood, each with a finger in the mouth, 
right across the threshold, in a manner highly inconven- 
ient to Aurelia, who was only in her stiff stays and dimity 
petticoat, with a mass of hair hanging down beloAv her 
waist. She turned to them with arms outstretched, but 
this put them instantly to the rout, and they ran off as 
fast as their bare pink feet could carry them, till one 
stumbled, and lay with her face down and her plump legs 
kicking in the air. Aurelia caught her up, but the capture 
produced a powerful yell, and out, all at once, hurried 
into the corridor, Mrs. Aylward, a tidy maid-servant, a 
stout, buxom countrywoman, and a rough girl, scarcely 
out of bed, but awake enough to snatch the child out of the 
young lady^s arms, and carry her off. The housekeeper 
began scolding vigorously all round, and Aurelia escaped 
into her own room, where she completed her toilet, looking 
out into a garden below, laid out in the formal Dutch fash- 
ion, with walks and beds centering in a fountain, the grass- 
plats as sharply defined as possible, and stiff yews and 
cypresses dotted at regular intervals, or forming straight 
alleys. She felt strange and shy, but the sunshine, the 
cheerfulness, and the sight of the children, had reassured 
her, and when she had said her morning prayer^ she had 
lost the last night ^s sense of hopeless dreariness and im- 
protectedness. When another knock came, she opened the 
door cheerfully, but there was a chill in meeting Mrs. Ayl- 
ward^s grave, cold face, and stiff salutation. “ If you arc 


62 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


ready, madame/^ she said, “ I will show you to the south 
parlor, where your breakfast is served, and where the chil- 
dren will eat with you/'’ 

Aurelia ventured to ask about her baggage, and was told 
that it would be forwarded from Brentford. Mrs. Aylward 
then led the way to a wide stone staircase, with handsome 
carved balusters, leading down into the great hall, with 
doors opening from all sides. All was perfectly empty, and 
so still, that the sweep of the dresses, and the tap of the 
heels made an echo; and the sunshine, streaming in at the 
large windows, marked out every one upon the floor, in 
light and shadow, and exactly repeated the brown-shaded, 
yellow-framed medallions of painted glass upon the pave- 
ment. There was something awful and oppressive in the 
entire absence of all tokens of habitation, among those 
many closed doors. 

One, however, at the foot of the stairs was opened by 
Mrs. Aylward. It led to a sort of narrow lobby, with a 
sashed window above a low door, opening on stone steps 
down to the terrace and garden. To the right was an 
open door, giving admittance to a room hung with tapestry, 
with a small carpet in the center of the floor, and a table 
2Jrepared for the morning meal. There was a certain cheer- 
fulness about it, though it was bare of furniture; but there 
were an easy-chair, a settee, a long couch, a spinnet, and an 
embroidery frame, so that altogether it had capabilities of 
being lived in. 

“ Here you will sit, madame, with the young ladies,^ ^ 
said Mrs. Aylward. They have a maid-servant who will 
wait on you, and if you require anything, you will be pleased 
to speak* to me. My lady wishes you to take charge of 
them, and likewise to execute the piece of embroidery you 
will find in that frame, with the materials. This will be 
your apartment, and you can take the young ladies into 
the garden and park, wherever you please, except that they 
must not make a noise before the windows of the other 
wing, which you will see closed with shutters, for those 
are Mr. Belaniour^s rooms. 

With these words Mr. Aylward courtesied as if about to 
retire, Aurelia held out her hand in entreaty. “ Oh, can 
not you stay with me?^' 

No, madame, my office is the housekeej^er’s,’^ was the 
stiff response. “ Molly will call me if you require my serv- 


LOVE AKD LIFE. G3 

ices. I think you said you preferred bread and milk for 
breakfast. Dinner will be served at one.^^ 

Mrs. Aylward retreated, leaving a chill on the heai-t of 
the lonely girl. 

She was a clergyman '’s widow, though with no preten- 
sions to gentility, and was a plain, conscientious, godly 
woman, but with the narrow self-concentrated piety of the 
time, which seemed to ignore all the active part of the 
duty to our neighbor. She had lived many years as a faith- 
ful retainer to the Belamour family, and avoided perplexity 
by minding no one^s business but her own, and that thor- 
oughly. Naturally reserved, and disapproving much that 
she saw around her, she had never held it to be needful to 
do more than preserve her own integrity, and the interests 
of her employers, and she made it a principle to be in no- 
wise concerned in family affairs, and to hold aloof from 
perilous confidences. 

Thus Aurelia was left to herself, till three bowls of milk 
were borne in by Molly, who was by no means loath to speak. 

“ The little misses will be down directly, ma^am,^'’ she 
said, “ that is, two on ^em. The little one, she won’t 
leave Jenny Bowles, but Dame Wheatfield, she’ll bring 
down the other two. You see, ma’am, they be only just 
taken home from being out at nurse, and don’t know one 
another, nor the place, and a pretty handful we shall have 
of ’em.” 

Here came a call for Molly, and the girl, with a petulant 
exclamation, sped away, leaving Aurelia to the society of 
the tapestry. It was of that set of Gobelin work which 
represents the four elements personified by their goddesses, 
and Aurelia’s mythology, founded on Fenelon, was just 
sufficient to enable her to recognize the forge of Vulcan 
and car of Venus. Then she looked at the work prepared 
for her, a creamy piece of white satin, and a most elabo- 
rate pattern of knots of roses, lilacs, hyacinths, anff labur- 
nums, at which her heart sunk within her. However, at 
that moment the stout woman she had seen in the morning 
appeared at the open door with a little girl in each hand, 
both in little round muslin caps, long white frocks, and 
blue sashes. 

One went up readily to Aurelia and allowed herself to be 
kissed, and lifted to a chair; the other clung to Dame 
Wheatfield, in spite of coaxing entreaties. “ Speak pretty, 


64 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


my clear; speak to the pretty lady. Don^t ye see how good 
your sister is? It wonH do, miss/ ^ to Aurelia; she^s 
daunted, is my pretty lamb. If I might just give her lier 
breakwist — for it is the last time I shall do it — then she 
might get used to you before my good man comes for me.^^^ 

Aurelia was only too glad to install Dame AVheatfield in 
a chair with her charge upon her lap. The other child was 
feeding herself very tidily and independently, and Aurelia 
asked her if she were the eldest. 

“ Yes,^^ she said. 

“ Ancl what shall I call yon, my dear?^^ 

“ I^m missy. 

“ No, missy, me — me eldest,^^ cried the other. 

“ Bless the poor children exclaimed Mrs. AVheatfield, 
laughing, “ they be both of Ym eldest, as one may say.^^ 

‘°They are twins, theh?^^ said Aurelia. 

“ More than that — all three of them came together! IVe 
heard tell of such a thing once or twice, but never of all 
living and thriving. Folk said it was a judgment on my 
lady that she spoke sharp and hard to a poor beggar woman 
with a child on each arm. It was not a week out before 
my lady herself was down, quite unexpected, as I may say, 
for she was staying here for a week, with a lot of company, 
when these three was born. They do say she was nigh be- 
side herself that the like of that should have happened to 
her. Mr. AVayland, he was not so ill pleased, but the poor 
little things had to be got out of the house any way, for 
she could not bear to hear of them. Mrs. Rolfe, as was 
an old servant of the family, took that one, and I was 
right glad to have you, my pretty one, for I had just lost 
my babe at a fortnight old, and the third was sent to Goody 
Bowles, for want of a better. They says as how my lady 
means to bring them out one by one, and to make as if 
they came like other children, as this here is bigger, and 
the other upstairs is lesser, and never let on that they are 
all of an age."’"’ 

The good gossip must have presumed greatly on the chil- 
dren ^s want of comprehension if she did not suppose that 
they understood her at least as well as the young lady to 
whom her dialect was strange. 

“ And has she not seen them?^^ 

“ Never till last Monday, if youTl believe me, miss, when 
she drove down in her coach, and the children were all 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


65 


brought home. I thought she might have said something 
handsome, considering the poor little babe as my missy 
here was when I had her — not so long as my hand — and 
scarce able to cry enough to show she was alive. The work 
I and my good man had with her! He would walk up and 
down half the night with her. Not as we grudged it. He 
is as fond of the child as myself; and Mr. Wayland, he 
knew it. ‘ She has a good nurse, dame,^ says he to me, 
with the water in his eyes, before he went to foreign jiarts. 
But my lady! When the little one as had been with Goody 
BowJes^ — an ignorant woman, you see — cried and clung to 
her, and kicked, ‘ Little savages all, ^ says my lady. There 
was thanks to them that had had more work to rear her 
children than ever with one of their own! ‘ Perfect little 
rustics!^ she said, even when you male your courtesy as 
pretty as could be, didnT you, my little lammie?” 

Mammy Rolfe taught me to make my courtesy like a 
London lady,^^ said the other child, the most advanced in 
manners. 

‘‘ Aha! little pitchers have long ears; but, bless you, 
they donT know what it means,'’’ said Dame Wheatfield, 
too" glad to talk to check herself on any account; ‘‘ not so 
much as a kiss for them, poor little darlings! Folks say 
she does not let even Master Wayland kiss aught but her 
hands for fear of her fine colors. A plague on such colors, 
Isay.” 

Poor little things!” whisjiered Aurelia. 

YouTl be good to them, won’t you, miss?” 

Indeed I hope so! I am only just come from home, and 
they will be all I have to care for here.” 

Ay, you must be lonesome in this big place; but I’m 
right glad to have seen you, miss; I can part with the lit- 
tle dear with a better heart, for Mrs. Aylward don’t care 
for children, and Jenny Bowles is a rough 'wench, wrapped 
up in her own child, and won’t be no good to the others 
Go to the lady, my precious,” she added, trying to pul 
the little girl into her cousin’s lap, but this was met with 
struggles, and vehement cries of — 

“No; stay with mammy!” 

The little sister, who had not brought her nursd, was, 
however, well contented to be lifted to Aurelia’s knee, and 
returned her caresses. 

3 


66 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


“ And have you not a name, my dear? We can^t call 
you all missie/^ 

‘‘ Fay/'’ the child lisped; “ Fayfiddly Wayland/^ 

“ Lavvk-a-daisy!^^ and Mrs. AVheatfield fell back laugh- 
ing. F’ll tell you how it was, ma^’am. When no one 
thought they would live an hour. Squire Wayland he sent 
for parson and had ^em half baptized Faith, Hope, and 
Charity. They says his own mother ^s was called Faith, 
and the other two came natural after it, and would do as 
well to be buried by as aught. So that^s what she means 
by Fay, and this here is Miss Charity. 

‘‘ She said something besides Faith. 

“ Well, when my lady got about again, they say if she 
was mad at their coming all on a heap, she was madder 
still at their names. Bible wasnT grand enough for her! 
I did hear tell that she throwed her slipper at her hus- 
band^s head, and was like to go into fits. So to content 
her he came down, and took each one to church, and had 
a fine London name of my lady^s choosing tacked on in 
parson ^s register for them to go by; but to my mind it 
aiiiT like their christened name. Mine here got called for 
her share Amoretta.'’^ 

‘‘A little love, cried Aurelia. “Oh, that is pretty. 
And what can your name be, my dear little Fay? Will you 
tell me again ?'’^ 

When repeated, it was plainly Fidelia, and it appeared 
that Hope had been also called Letitia. As to age, Mrs. 
Wheatfield knew it was five years last Michaelmas since the 
child had been brought to her from whom she was so loath 
to part that she knew not how to go when her husband 
came for her in his cart. He was a farmer, comfortably 
off, though very homely, and there were plenty of children 
at home, so that she had been ill-spared to remain at the 
Park till Aurelia’s arrival. Thus she took the opportunity 
of going away while the little one was asleep. 

Aurelia asked where she lived now. At Sedhurst, in the 
next parish, she was told; but she would not accept a 
promise that her charge should soon be brought to visit 
her. ' “ Better not, ma’am, thank you all the same, not 
till she’s broke in. She’ll pine the less if she don’t see nor 
hear nothing about the old place, nor daddy and Sally and 
Davie. If you bring her soon, you’ll never get her away 


LOVE AND LIFE. 67 

again. That^s the worst of a nurse-child. I was warned. 
It just breaks your heart 

So away went the good foster-mother sobbing; and 
Aurelia^s charge began. Fay claimed her instantly to ex- 
plore the garden and house. The child had been sent home 
alone on the sudden illness of her nurse, and had been very 
forlorn, so that her cousin’s attention was a great boon to 
her. Hope was invited to come out; but Jenny Bowles 
kej^t a jealous watch over her, and treated every one else as 
an enemy; and before Aurelia’s hat was on, came the ter- 
rible woe of Amoret’s awakening. Her sobs and wailings 
for her mammy were entirely beyond the reach of Aurelia’s 
soothings and caresses, and were only silenced by Molly’s 
asseveration that the black man was at the door ready to 
take her into the dark room. That this was no phantom 
was known to the poor child, and was a lurking horror to 
Aurelia herself. No wonder that the little thing clung to 
her convulsively, and would not let her hand go for the 
rest of the day, every now and then moaning out entreaties 
to go home to mammy. 

With the sad little being hanging to her hand, Aurelia 
was led by Fay round their new abiding-place. The house 
was of brick, shaped like the letter H, Dutch, and with a 
tall wing, at each end of the main body, projecting, and 
finishing in fantastic gables edged with stone. One of 
these square wings was appropriated to Aurelia and her 
charges, the other to the recluse Mr. Belamour. The space 
that lay between the two wings, on the garden front, was 
roofed over, and paved with stone, descending in several 
broad shallow steps to a broad terrace, which again had 
stone steps at the center and ends, guarded at each angle 
by huge carved eagles, the crest of the builder. Sir Jovian. 
Below lay the garden, like a piece of the most regular 
patch- work, and kept, in spite of the owner’s non-residence, 
in perfect order. The strange thing was that this fair and 
stately place, basking in the sunshine of early June, should 
be left in complete solitude save for the hermit in the O])- 
posite wing, the three children, and the girl, who felt as 
though in a kind of prison. 

The sun was too hot for Aurelia to go out of doors till 
late in the day, when the shadow of the house came over 
the ste2:)s. She was sitting on one, with Amoret nestled in 
her lap, and was crooning an old German lullaby of 


68 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


NannerFs, which seemed to have a wonderful effect in 
calming the child, who at last fell into a doze. Aurelia 
had let her voice die away, and had begun to think over 
her strange situation, when she was startled by a laugh be- 
hind her, and looking round, hardly repressed a start or 
scream, at the sight of Fay enjoying a game at bopeep, 
with — yes — it actually was — the negro — over the low-sashed 
door. 

‘‘ I beg pardon, ma^am,^^ said Jumbo, twitching his 
somewhat grizzled wool; I heard singing, and little 
missy — ^ 

Unfortunately Amoret here awoke, and with a shriek of 
horror cowered in her arms. 

I am so sorry,^^ said Aurelia, anxious not to hurt his 
feelings. She knows no better.^’’ 

Jumbo grinned, bowed, and withdrew. Fay running after 
liim, for she had made friends with him during her days of 
solitude, being a fearless child, and not having been taught 
to make a bugbear of him. ‘‘ The soot wonT come off,^^ 
she said. 

Aurelia had not a moment to herself till Fay had said 
the Lord^s Prayer at her knee, and Amoret, with much 
persuasion, had been induced to lisp out— • 

“Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, 

Bless the bed I sleep upon; 

Four corners to my bed. 

Four angels round my head, 

One to read and one to write. 

And two to guard my soul all night.” 

Another agony for mammy ensued, nor could Aurelia 
leave the child till sleep had hushed the wailings. Then 
only could she take her little writing-case to begin her let- 
ter to Betty. It would be an expensive luxury to her fam- 
ily, but she knew how it would be longed for; and though 
she cried a good deal over her writing, she felt as if she 
ought to make the best of her position, for had not Betty 
said it was for her father ^s sake? No, her tears must not 
blot the paper, to distress those loving hearts. Yet how 
the drops loould come, gathering fast and blinding her! 
Presently, through the window, came the sweet mysterious 
strains of the violin, not terrifying her as before, but fill- 
ing her with an inexpressible sense of peace and calmness.. 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


69 


She sat listening almost as one in a dream, with her pen 
suspended, and when the spell was broken by Molly ^s en- 
trance with her supper, she went on in a much more cheer- 
ful strain than she had begun. It was dull, and it was a 
pity that her grand wardrobe, to say nothing of Betty 
good advice, should be wasted, but her sister would rejoice 
in her seclusion from the grand, fashionable world, and her 
heart went out to the poor little neglected children, whose 
mother could not bear the sight of them. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE TRIAD. 

“ I know sisters, sisters three.” 

Ere many days had passed Aurelia had drifted into what 
would now be regarded as the duties of a nursery-governess 
to her little companions. 

Fay and Amoret were always with her, and depended on 
her for everything. Jenny Bowles, with a sort of animal 
jealousy, tried to monopolize her charge, Letitia. The 
child was attracted by the sounds of her sisters'* sports, and 
there was no keeping her from them, or from their cousin. 
Then the rude untaught Jenny became cross, moped, 
showed spite to the other children, and insolence to the 
young lady, and was fortunately overheard by Mrs. Ayl- 
ward, and dismissed. Letty did not seem to mind the loss 
as Amoret had felt that of her foster-mother, for indeed 
Jenny had been almost as disagreeable to her as to the 
others during these days of jealousy. 

The triad were not much alike : Amoret was the largest 
of the three, plump, blue-eyed, golden-haired, rosy-cheeked, 
a picture of the cherub-type of child; Letitia had the deli- ^ 
cate Delavie features and complexion; and Fidelia, the 
least pretty, was pale, and rather sallow, with deep blue 
eyes set under a broad forehead and dark brows, with hair 
also dark. Though the smallest, she was the most ad- 
vanced, and showed signs of good training. She had some 
notion of good manners, and knew as much of her horn- 
book and catechism as little girls of five were wont to 
know. The other two were perfectly ignorant, but Mrs. 
Aylward procured horn-books, primers, and slates, and 
Aurelia began their education in a small way. 


70 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


It was a curious life. There was the great empty house, 
through whose long corridors and vacant rooms the chil- 
dren might wander at will, peeping at the swathed curtains 
of velvet pile, the rolls of carpet, and the tapestry pictures 
on the walls, running and shouting in the empty passages, 
or sometimes, in a fit of nameless fright, taking refuge in 
Aurelia ^s arms. Or they might play in the stately garden, 
provided they trod on no borders, and meddled with neither 
flower nor fruit. The old gardener began by viewing them 
as his natural enemies, but soon relaxed in amusement at 
their pretty sportive ways, gave them many precious spoils, 
and forgave more than one naughty little inroad, which 
greatly alarmed their guardian. 

Or if the little party felt enterprising, there lay beyond, 
the park, its slopes covered with wild strawberries, and with 
woods where they could gather flowers unchecked. Fur- 
ther, there was no going, except on alternate Sundays, 
W'hen there was service in the tumble-down church at the 
park gate. It was in far worse condition than the church 
at home, and was served by a poor forlorn-looking curate, 
who lived at Brentford, and divided his services between 
four parishes, each of which was content to put up with a 
fortnightly alternate morning and evening service. The 
Belamour seat was a square one, without the comfortable 
appliances of the Delavie closet, and thus permitting a 
much fuller view, but there was nothing to be seen except 
a row of extremely gaudy Belamour hatchments, display- 
ing to the , full, the saltier-wise sheafs of arrows on the 
shields or lozenges, supported by grinning skulls. The 
men^s shields preserved their eagle crest, the women had 
only lozenges, and the family motto, A^no et Amdbo, was 
exchanged for the more pious “ llesurgam,” 

Aurelia found that the family seat, whither she was mar- 
shaled by Mrs. Aylward, was already occupied by two 
ladies, who rose up, and made her stately courtesies with a 
decidedly disgusted air, although there was ample space for 
her and little Fidelia, the only one of her charges whom 
she had ventured to take with her. They wore the black 
hoods, laced bodices, long rolls of towering curl and open 
upper skirts, of Queen Anne’s day, and in the eyes of 
thirty years later, looked so ridiculous that Fay could not 
but stare at them ^ the whole time, and whenever Aurelia 
turned her glances from her book to see whether her little 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


71 


companion was behaving herself, the big bine considering 
eyes were always leveled full upon the two forms before 
her. 

The ladies were in keeping with their dress, thin, stiff, 
and angular, with worn and lined faces, highly rouged, and 
enormous long-handled fans, and Aurelia was almost as 
much astonished as the child. 

There was a low courtesying again, and much ceremony 
before it was possible to get out of the pew, and the two 
ladies mounted at the door on lofty pattens which added 
considerably to their height, and, attended by a loutish- 
looking man in livery, who carried their books, stalked off 
into the village. 

Aurelia found from the communicative Molly that they 
were Mistress Phmbe and Mistress Delia Treforth, kins- 
women of the Belamour family, who had in consequence a 
life residence rent-fre6 in a tall thin red square house near 
the church-yard, where a very gay parrot was always to be 
seen in the windows. They no doubt regarded Miss Dela- 
vie and the little Waylands as interlopers at Bowstead, and 
their withering glances made church-going a trying affair 
— indeed the first time that Aurelia took little Amoret, 
they actually drove the sensitive child into a sobbing fit, so 
that she had to be carried out, begging to know why those 
ladies looked so cross at her. 

The life, on the whole, was not unhappy, except for fits 
of home-sickness and longing for letters. The arrival of 
the boxes from the carrier was the first comfort, and then 
at last came a thick letter from home, franked by Sir 
George Herries, and containing letters from everybody— 
even a few roimdhand lines from Eugene. 

Her father wrote at length all the excellent moral and 
religious essay which had stuck in his throat at the parting; 
rreimer was Betty^s letter deficient in good advice, though 
she let it appear that the family were much amused at 
Lady Belamour^ s affliction in her triad of daughters, the 
secret having been hitherto so carefully kept that they sup- 
posed her to have only one. 

‘‘It will be your Charge/^ wrote Betty, “so far as in 
you lies, to render them not merely the Graces, as my 
Father terms them, but the true Christian Graces, whose 
Karnes they bear. You are very young, my dear Sister, 


72 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


but I have full Confidence in your Endeavor to be a true 
and faithful Guardian to these Infant Spirits. Though 
their Mother has shown no Care or heed in entrusting them 
to you, yet remember that it is truly the good Providence 
of their Heavenly Father that has put these little Children 
of His in your Charge, to receive from you the first Princi- 
ples of Religion and Morals which may mold their whole 
Lives; and I trust that you will do the Work faithfully and 
successfully. It may be dull and tedious at Bowstead, but 
I had much rather hear of you thus than exposed to the 
full Glare of my Lady^s Saloon in London. Ho doubt 
Harriet has writ to you of the Visit of young Sir Amyas, 
the Sunday after your' Departure. We have since heard 
that his exj)edition to Monmouthshire was with a View to 
his marriage with Lady Aresfield^’s Daughter, and this may 
well be, so that if he fall in your way, you will be warned 
against putting any misconstruction on any Civil Attentions 
he may joay to you. Ever since your Departure Mr. Arden 
has redoubled his Assiduities in a certain Quarter, and as it 
is thought the Dean and Chapter are not unlikely to pres- 
ent him to a good Vicarage in Buckinghamsliire, it is not 
unlikely that ere long you may hear of a Wedding in the 
- Family, although Harriet would be extremely angry at me 
for daring to give such a Hint. 

Certainly Aurelia would not have gathered the hint from 
Harrietts letter, which was very sentimental about her own 
loneliness and lack of ojiportunity, in contrast with Aurelia 
•who was seeing the world. That elegant beau. Sir Amyas, 
had just given a sample to tantalize their rusticity, and 
then had vanished; and here was that oddity, Mr. Arden, 
more wearisome and pertinacious than ever. So tiresome! 


CHAPTER X. 

THE DARK CHAMBER. 

Or singst thou rather under force 
Of some Divine command, 

Commissioned to presage a course 
Of happier days at hand? 

COWPER. 

Aurelia "was coming down-stairs in the twilight after 
singing her charges to sleep about three weeks after her 


LOVE AND I^FE. 


73 . 


arrival, when she saw Jumbo waiting at the bottom of the. 
stairs. 

She had long ceased to be afraid of him. Indeed he had 
quite amazed her by his good-nature in helping to lift dowru 
naughty little Letitia, who was clambering up to the win- 
dow of his master^s chamber to look through the crevices 
of the shutters. He had given the children a gayly dressed 
rag doll, and was as delighted as they were when he played 
his fiddle to them and set them dancing. 

Still, the whites of his eyes, his shining teeth, and the 
gold lace of his livery had a startling effect in the darkness, 
and Aurelia wished he would move awayj but he was evi- 
dently waiting for her, and when she came near he ad- 
dressed her thus, Mish* Belamour present compliment, 
and would Miss Delavie be good enough to honor him with 
her company for a short visit 

The girl started, dismayed, alarmed, yet unwilling to be 
unkind to the poor recluse, while she. hoped that decorum 
and propriety would put the visit out of the question. She 
replied that she would ask Mrs. Aylward whether she 
might, and Jumbo followed her to the still-room, saying 
on the way, ‘‘ Mash’ heard Miss Delavie sing. He always 
has the window opened to hear her. It makes him hum 
the air — be merry. He has not asked to speak with lady 
since he heard the bad news — long, long ago.^^l 

Then Aurelia felt that nothing short of absolute impro- 
priety ought to make her gratify her shrinking reluctance. 
Mrs. Aylward seemed to think her doubts imcalled for, and 
attributed her hesitation to fear of the dark room. 

‘‘Oh, no, I am not sp child ish,^^ said the young lady 
with nervous dignity; “ but would it be proper 

“ Bless Die, madanie, he is as old as your father, and as 
civil a gentleman as lives. I would come in with you but 
that I am expecting Mr. Potts with the tallies. You need 
have no scruples.^'’ 

There was no excuse nor escape, and Aurelia followed 
the negro in trepidation. Crossing the hall, he opened for 
her the door of the lobby corresponding to her own, and 
saying, “ Allow me, passed before her, and she 

heard another door unclosed, and a curtain withdrawn. 
Beyond she only saw a gulf of darkness, but out of it came 
a deep manly voice, subdued and melancholy, but gentle- 
man-like and deferential. 


74 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


‘‘ The young lady is so kind as to come and cheer the 
old hermit. A thousand thanks, madame. Permit me. 

Aurelia^s hand was taken by one soft for want of use, 
and she was led forward on a deep piled carpet and care- 
fully placed on a chair in the midst Of the intense black 
darkness. 1'here was a little movement and then the voice 
said, I am most sensible of your goodness, madame.^* 

I — I am glad. You are very good, sir,” murmured 
Aurelia, oppressed by the gloom and the peculiar atmos- 
phere, cool — ^for the windows were open behind the shut- 
ters — ^but strangely fragrant. 

How does my excellent friend. Major Delavie?” 

I thank you, sir, he is well, though his wound troubles 
him from time to time. ” 

Commend me to him when you write, if you are good 
enough to remember it. ” 

I thank you, sir. He will be rejoiced to hear of you. ” 

He does me too much honor. ” 

These conventionalities being exhausted, a formidable 
pause ensued, first broken by Mr. Belamour, ‘‘ May I ask 
how my fair visitor likes Bowstead?” 

It is a fine place, sir, ” 

But soniewLat lonely for so youthful a lady?” 

I have the children, sir. ” 

I often hear their cheerful voices.” 

I hope we do not disturb you, sir, I strive to restrain 
them, but I fear we are all thoughtless.” 

‘‘Nay, the innocent sounds of mirth ring sweetly on my 
ears, like the notes of birds. And when I have heard a 
charming voice singing to the little ones, I have listened 
114111 dehght. Would it be too presumptuous to beg the air 
songstress to repeat her song for the old recluse?” 

‘°Oh, sir, I have only nursery ditties, caught from our 
old German maid,” cried Aurelia, in dismay. 

“ That might not diminish the charm to me,” he said. 
“ In especial there was one song whose notes Jumbo caught 
as you accompanied yourself on the spinnet.” 

And Jumbo, who seemed able to see in the dark, played 
a bar on his viohn, while Aurelia trembled with shyness. 

“ The Nightingale Song,” she said. “ My dear mother 
learned the tune abroad. And I believe that she herself 
made the English words, when she was asked what the 
nightingales say.” 


LOVE -AND LIFE. 


75 


‘‘May I hear it? Nightingales can sing in the dark. 
Refusal was impossible, and Jumbo ^s violin was a far more 
effective accompaniment than her own very moderate per- 
formance on the spinnet; so in a sweet, soft, pure, un- 
trained and trembling voice, she sung: 

“ Oh, Life and Light are sweet, my dear, 

Oh,- Life and Light are sweet; 

But sweeter still the hope .and cheer 
When Love and Life shall meet. 

Oh, then, it is most sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, 
sweet. 

“ But Love puts on the yoke, my dear, 

But Love puts on the yoke;' 

The dart of Love calls forth the tear. 

As though the heart were broke. 

The very heart were broke, broke, broke, broke, 
broke, broke. 

“ And Love can quench Life’s Light, my dear. 

Drear, dark, and melancholy; 

Seek Light and Life and jocund cheer, 

And mirth and pleasing folly. 

Be thine, light-hearted folly, folly, folly, folly, folly, 
folly. 

“ ‘Nay, nay,’ she sang, ‘yoke, pain, and tear, 

For Love I gladly greet; 

Light, Life, and Mirth are nothing here, 

Without Love’s bitter-sweet. 

Give me Love’s bitter-sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, 
sweet, sweet. ’ ” 

“ Accept my fervent thanks, kind songstress. So that 
is the nightingale^s song, and your honored mother ’s?'’'* 

“ Yes, sir. My father often makes us sing it because it 
reminds him of her. 

“ Philomel could not have found a better interpreter,^'’ 
said the grave voice, sounding so sad that Aurelia wished 
she could have sung something less affecting to his spirits. 

“ I gather from what you said that you are no longer 
blessed with the presence of that excellent lady, your moth- 
er?” presently added Mr. Belamour. 

“ No, sir. We lost her seven years ago. ” 

“ And her husband mourns her still. Well he may. 
She was a rare creature. So she is gone ! I have been so 


76 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


long in seclusion that no doubt time has made no small 
havoc, and my friends have had many griefs to bewail. 

Aurelia knew not what answer to make, and was relieved 
when he collected himself and said : 

I will trespass no longer on myiair visitor’s complai- 
sance, but if she have not found the gloom of this apart- 
ment insupportable, it would be a charitable action to 
brighten it once more with her presence.” 

Oh, sir, I will come whenever you are pleased to send 
for me,” she exclaimed, all her doubts, fears, and scruples 
vanishing at his tone of entreaty. “ My father would be 
so glad. I will practice my best song to sing to you to- 
morrow. ” 

My best thanks are yours,” and her hand was again 
taken; she was carefully conducted to the door and dis- 
missed with a gentle pressure of her fingers, and a court- 
.eous: Good-night madame. revoir \t I may venture 

to say so. ” 

By contract, the hall looked almost light, and Aurelia 
could see the skip of joy with which Jumbo hurried to fetch 
a candle. As he gave it to her, he made his teeth fiash 
from ear to ear, as he exclaimed: ‘‘ Pretty missy bring new 
life to mas’r!” 

Thus did a new element come into Aurelia’s life. She 
carefully prepared Harriet’s favorite song, a French ro- 
mance, but Mr. Belamour did not like it equally well with 
the Nightingale, which he made her repeat, rewarding her 
By telling her of the charming looks and manners of her 
mother, so that she positively enjoyed her visit. The next 
night he made inquiries into her walks at Bowstead, asking 
after the favorite nooks of his childhood, and directing her 
to the glades where grew the largest dewberries and sweetest 
blackberries. This led to her recital of a portion of “ Mid- 
summer Night’s Dream,” for he drew her on with thanks 
at every pause: ‘‘ I have enjoyed no such treat for many 
years,” he said. 

There are other pieces that I can recite another time,” 
-said Aurelia timidly. 

“You will confer a great favor on me,” he answered. 

So she refreshed her memory by a mental review of 
'•“Paradise Lost” over her embroidery-frame, and was 
ready with Adam’s morning hymn, which was much rel- 
ished. Compliments on her elocution soon were turned by 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


77 


her into the praise of “ sister/^ and as she became more at 
ease, the strange man in the dark listened with evident de- 
light to her pretty fresh prattle about sisters and brother, 
and father and home. Thus it had become a daily custom 
that she should spend the time between half-past seven 
and nine in the company of the prisoner of darkness, and 
she was beginning to look forward to it as the event of the 
day. She scarcely expected to be sent for on Sunday 
evening, but Jumbo came as usual with the invitation, 
and she was far from sorry to quit a worm-eaten Baxter's 
‘‘ Saints' Best " wliich she had dutifully borrowed from 
Mrs. Aylward. 

“ Well, my fair visitor," said the voice, which had ac- 
quired a tone of pleased anticipation, ‘‘ what mental repast 
has your goodness provided?" 

“ It is Sunday, sir." 

Ah!" as if it had not occurred to him, and with some 
disappointment. 

“ I could say the Psalms by heart, sir, if you would like 
it, for it is the 20th day of the month. " 

‘‘ Thank you. Your voice can make anything sweet. " 

Aurelia was shocked, and knew that Be tty would be more 
so, but she was too shy to do anything except to begin : 

Praise thou the Lord, 0 my soul!" 

It was a fortunate thing that it was a Psalm of such evi- 
dent beauty, for it fell less familiarly on his ear than her 
passages from the poets. At the end he said: “ Yes, that 
is true poetiy. Praise fits well with happy young lips. 
You have been to church?" 

‘‘ Yo, sir, Mr. Greaves does not come to-day." 

Then how did the gentle saint perform her orisons?" 

Please do not so call me, sir! I tried to read the serv- 
ice, but I could not get the children to be still, so I had tc 
tell them about Joseph, and I found a beautiful Bible full 
of pictures, like our Dutch one at home. " 

You found the old Bible? My mother used to show ii 
to my brother and me — my poor mother!" 

He mentioned one or two of the engravings, which h< 
had never forgotten, but the evening was less of a succes 
than usual, and Aurelia doubted whether he would wisj 
for her that day se'nnight. All her dread of him wa 
gone; she knew she had brought a ray of brightness int 
his solitary broken life, and her mind was much occupie 


78 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


with the means of atiording him pleasure. Indeed she 
might have wearied of the lack of all companionship save 
that of the young children: and converse with a clever 
highly cultivated mind was stimulating and expanding all 
her faculties. When the stores of her memory were becom- 
ing exhausted, Jumbo was bidden to open a great case of 
books which had lain untouched since they were sent down 
from Mr. Belamour^s chambers at the Temple, and they 
were placed at her disposal. Here was Mr. Alexander 
Pope^s translation of the “ Iliad of Homer, which had 
appeared shortly before the fatal duel, and Aurelia eagerly 
learned whole pages of it by heart for the evening^s amuse- 
ment, enjoying extremely the elucidations and criticisms 
of her auditor, who would dwell on a passage all day, beg 
to have it repeated a second time in the evening, and then 
tell her what his memory or his reflection had suggested 
about it. Moreover, having heard some inexplicable report,, 
through Jumbo, of the Porteous mob, Mr. Belamour be- 
came curious to learn the truth, and this led to his causing 
the newspapers to be sent weekly to be read and reported 
to him by Aurelia. It seemed incredible that a man of so 
much ability should have been content to spend all these 
years in the negroes sole society, but no doubt the injury 
done to the brain had been aggravated by grief and re- 
morse, so that he had long lain, with suspended faculties, 
in a species of living death; whence he had only gradually, 
and as it were unconsciously, advanced to his present con- 
dition. Perhaps Mr. Wayland^s endeavors to rouse him 
had come too soon, or in a less simple and attractive form, 
for they had been reluctantly received, and had proved en- 
tirely unsuccessful; while the child-like efforts of the girl, 
following his lead instead of leading him, were certainly 
awakening him, and renewing his spirits and interest in the 
world at large in an unlooked-for manner. 


CHAPTER XL 

A VOICE FROM THE GRAVE. 

He hath a word for thee to speak. 

Keble. 

No difference was made as to Aurelia^s visits to Mr, 
'•elamour on Sunday evenings, but he respected her sent- 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


79 


pies against indulgence in profane literature, and encour- 
aged her to repeat passages of Scripture, beginning to 
taste the beauty of the grand cadences falling from her 
soft measured voice. Thus had she come to the Sermon 
on the Mount, and found herself repeating the exjiansion 
of the Sixth Commandment ending with, “ And thou be 
cast into prison. Verily I say unto thee, thou shalt not 
come out thence until thou hast paid the uttermost far- 
thing. 

A groan startled her. Then came silence, and she rec- 
ollected the import of the passage and the unhap23y man^s 
history with a sudden stab. A horror of the darkness fell 
on her. She felt as if he were in the prison and she re- 
proaching him, and cried out — “ Oh, sir, forgive me. I 
forgot; I did not say it on purpose. 

No, my child, it was Mary speaking by your voice. 
Ko, Mary, I shall never come out. It will never be paid. 

She shook with fright as Jumbo touched her sa 3 dng, 

Missee, go; mash* bear no more;^'’ but, as she rose to go 
away, a sweet impulse made her pause and say, “ It is paid. 
He jiaid. You know Who did — in His own Blood. 

Jumbo drew her away almost by force, and W’hen out- 
side, exclaimed, “ Missee never sjieak of blood or kill to 
masY — he not bear it. Head turn again — see shapes as 
bad as ever.^^ 

The poor child cried bitterly, calling herself cruel, 
thoughtless, presumptuous; and for the next few days 
Jumbo^s eyes glared at her as he reported his master to be 
very ill ; but, on the third day, he came for her as usual. 
She thought Mr. Belamour’s tones unwontedly low and de- 
pressed, but no reference was made to the Sunday, and she 
was glad enough to plunge into the council of Olympus. 

A day or two later. Dame Wheatfield sent her husband 
with an urgent invitation to Miss Amoret with her sisters 
and cousin to be present at her harvest home. Mrs. Ayl- 
ward, with a certain tone of contempt, gave her sanction 
to their going with Molly, by the help of the little pony- 
cart used about the gardens. Aurelia, in high glee, told 
Mr. Belamour, who encouraged her to describe all her 
small adventures, and was her oracle in all the difficult 
questions that Fidelia^s childish wisdom was wont to start. 

To Wheatfield ’s farm, did you say? That is in Sed- 


80 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


hurst. There are but three fields between it and the 
church. 

Presently he added: “ I am tempted to ask a great kind- 
ness, though I know not whether it will be possible to you.^^ 
“ Indeed, sir, I will do my utmost. 

‘‘ There are two graves in Sedhurst Church, I have 
never dared to inquii’e about them. Would it be asking 
too much from my gentle friend to beg of her to visit them, 
and let me hear of them.^'’ 

“ I will, I will, sir, with all my heart. 

By eight o^clock the next evening she was again with 
liim, apologizing for being late. 

“ I scarcely expected this pleasure to-night. These rural 
festivities are often protracted. 

“ Oh, sir, I was heartily glad to escape and to get the chil- 
dren away. The people were becoming so rude and riotous 
that I was frightened. I never would have gone, had I 
known what it would be like, but at home the people are 
fond of asking us to their harvest feasts, and they always 
behave well whilst we are there. ” 

“No doubt they hold your father in respect. 

“ Yes,^^ said Aurelia, unwilling to tell him how much 
alarmed and offended she had been, though quite uninten- 
tionally. Dame Wheatfield only intended hospitality; but 
in her eyes “ Miss was merely a poor governess, and that 
to the little Waylands— mere interlopers in the eyes of the 
Belamour tenantiy. So the good woman had no idea that 
the rough gallantry of the young farmer guests was inap- 
jiropriate, viewing it as the natural tribute to her guesffs 
beauty, and mistaking genuine offense for mere C03mess, 
until, finding it was real earnest, considerable affront was 
taken at “ young madame^s fine airs, and she only a poor 
kinswoman of my lady’s!^^ Quite as ill was it received 
that the young lady had remonstrated against the indigesti- 
ble cakes and strange beverages administered to all her 
charges, and above all to Amoret. She had made Her es- 
cape on the plea of early hours for the children, leaving 
Molly behind her, just as the boisterous song was begin- 
ning in which Jack kisses Bet, Joe kisses Sue, Tom kisses 
Nan, etc., down to poor Dorothy Draggletail, who is left 
ill the lurch. The fai’ewell had been huffy. “ A good 
evening to you, madame; I am sorry our entertainment was 
not more to your taste. Slie had felt guilty and misera- 


LOVE AXD LIFE. 


81 


ble at the accusation of pride, and she could not imagine 
how Mrs. Aylward could have let her go without a warn- 
ing; the truth being that Mrs. A}dward despised her taste, 
but thought she knew what a harvest supper was like. 

All this was passed over hi silence by Aurelia^s pride and 
delicacy. She only described the scene when the last 
wagon came in with its load, the horses decked with flow- 
ers and ribbons, and the farmer^ s youngest girl enthroned 
on the top of the shocks, upholding the harvest doll. This 
was a little sheaf, curiously constructed and bound with 
straw plaits and ribbons. The farmer, on the arrival in 
the yard, stood on the horse-block, and held it high over 
the heads of all the harvesters, and the chorus was raised : 

“A knack, a knack, a knack. 

Well cut, well bound. 

Well shocked, well saved from the ground, 

Well scattered on the ground, 

Whoop! whoop! whoop!” 

After which the harvest doll displaced her last yearns 
predecessor over the hearth, where she was to hang till next 
year. 

All this Aurelia described, comparing the customs with 
those of her own county, her heart beating all the time 
under the doubt how to venture on describing the fulfill- 
ment of her commission. At last Mr. Belamour said. 

In such a scene of gayety, no doubt the recollection of 
sorrow had no place. 

‘‘ Oh, sir, you could not think I should forget. 

I thought I might have asked more than was possible 
to you.^^ 

It was the only part of the day that I enjoyed. I took 
little Fay with me, for no one seemed to care for her, while 
Amy was queening it with all the AYheatfields, and Letty 
was equally hapiiy with her foster-mother. I could see the 
church spire, so I needed not to ask the way, and we crossed 
the stubble fields, while the sun sent a beautiful slanting 
light through the tall elm-trees that closed in the church- 
yard, but let one window glitter between them like a great 
diamond. It looked so peaQef ul after all the noise we left 
behind, even little Fay felt it, and said she loved the quiet 
walk along the green baulks. The church-yard has a 
wooden rail .with steps to cross it on either side, and close 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


82 

under the church wall is a tomb, a great square simple 
block, surmounted by an urn. 

“ Yes, let me hear,^" said the voice, eager, though stifled. 
I thought it might be what you wished me to see and 
W'ent up to read the names. 

Do not spare. Never fear. Let me hear the very 
words. 

‘‘ On one face of the block there was the name — 

‘“WILLIAM SEDHURST. 

AGED 27, 

DIED MAY 13, 1729.’ 

On the other side was this inscription-r- 
“ ‘ MARY, 

ONLY DAUGHTER OF GEORGE SEDHURST, ESQUIRE, 
AGED 19, 

DIED AUGUST 1st, 1729. 

LoTie is strong as Death. 

Sorrow not as others that have no Hope.' 

In smaller letters down below, ‘ This epitaph is at her own 
special request. ^ 

‘SSir,^^ continued Aurelia, ‘Mt was very curious. I 
should not have observed those words if it had not been 
that a large beautiful butterfly, with rainbow eyes on its 
wings, sat sunning itself on the white marble, and Fay 
called me to look at it. 

Her message! May I ask you to re23eat it again 
The texts? ^ Love is strong as death. ^ ‘ Sorrow not 
as others that have no hope."’ 

Did you call them ScrijDture texts?” 

“ Yes, sir; I know the last is in one of the Epistles, and 
I will look for the other. 

“ It matters not. She intended them for a message to 
me who lay in utter darkness and imbecility well befitting 
her destroyer. 

‘‘Nay, they have come to you at last,^^ said Aurelia 
gently. “ You really never knew of them before?’^ 

“ No, I durst not ask, nor did any one dare to speak to me. 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


S3 


My brother, who alone would have clone so, died, I scarcely 
know when; but ere the very consciousness of my own 
wretched existence had come back to me. Once again re- 
peat the words, gentle messenger of mercy. 

She obeyed, but tliis time he mournfully murmured, 
‘‘ Hope! What hope for their destroyer?’^ 

“ They are GocVs words, as well as hers,^^ the girl an- 
swered, with diffident earnestness, but in reply she only 
heard tightened breaths, which made her say, “You can 
not bear more, sir. Let me call Jumbo, and ffid you good- 
night. ^ ^ 

Jumbo came at the mention of his name. Somehow he 
was so unlike other human beings, and so wholly devoted 
to his master, that it never seemed to be a greater shock to 
find that he had been present than if he had been a faith- 
ful dog. 

A few days later he told Aurelia that mash* was not well 
enough to see her. He had set forth as soon as the moon 
had set, and walked with his trusty servant to Sedhurst, 
where he had traced with his finger the whole inscription, 
lingering so long that the sim was above the horizon before 
he could get home; and he was still lying on the bed where 
he had thrown himself on first coming in, having neither 
spoken nor eaten since. Jumbo could not but grumble out 
that masY was better left to himself. 

Yet when Aureha on the third evening was recalled, there 
was a ring of refreshment in the voice. It was still mel- 
ancholy, but the dejection was lessened, and though it was 
only of Achilles and Patroclus that they talked, she was 
convinced that the pressure of the heavy burden of grief 
and remorse was in some degree lightened. 


CHAPTER XH. 

THE SHAFTS OF PHCEBE. 

Her golden bow she bends, 

Her deadly arrows sending forth. 

* Greek Hymn (Keightley). 

On coming in from a walk, Aurelia "was surprised by the 
tidings that Mistress Phoebe Treforth had come to call on 
her, and had left a billet. The said billet was secured 
with fioss silk sealed down in the anticpiated fasliion, and 


84 


LOYE Al^D LIFE. 


Y'as written on full-sized quarto jiaper. These were the 
contents : 

Madame, — My sister and myself are desirous of the 
honor of your acquaintance, and shall be ha^ipy if you will 
do us the pleasure of coming to partake of dinner at three 
o^ clock on Tuesday, the 13th instant. 

“ I remain, 

‘‘ Yours to command, 

Delia Tkefoeth.^^ 

Aurelia carried the inyitation to her oracle. 

“ My cousins are willing to make your acquaintance?” 
said he. ‘ ‘ That is well. Jumbo shall escort you home in 
the evenmg.'’^ 

Thank you, sir, but must I accejit the invitation ?^^ 

It could not be declined vdthout incivility. Moreover, 
the Mistresses Treforth are highly respected, and your fa- 
ther and sister will certainly think it well for you to have 
female friends. 

‘‘ Do you think those ladies could ever be my friends, 
sir?” she asked, with an intonation that made him reply, 
with a sound of amusement: 

‘‘ I am no judge in such matters, but they are ladies well 
connected and esteemed, who might befriend and counsel 
you in case of need, and at any rate, it is much more 
suitable that you should be on terms of friendly intercourse 
with them. I am heartily glad they have shown you this 
attention.” 

‘‘ I did not mean to be ungrateful, sir.” 

‘‘ And I think you have disproved that 

“ ‘ Crabbed age and youth 
Can not live together.’ ” 

If they were only like you, sir I” 

“ What would they say to that?” he said with the slight 
laugh that had begun to enliven his voice. ‘^Isuppiose 
your charges are not included in the invitation?” 

“ 'No; but Molly can take care of them, if my lady will 
not object to my leaving them. ” 

‘ ‘ She can not reasonably do so. ^ ^ 

And, sir, shall I be permitted to come home in time 
for you to receive me?” 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


85 


‘‘I fear I must forego that pleasure. The ladies will 
insist on cards and supper. Jumbo shall come for you at 
nine o^clock.^^ 

Aurelia submitted, and tripped down arrayed in the dress 
that recalled the fete at Oarminster, except that only a 
little powder was sprinkled on her temples. The little 
girls jumped round her in admiring ecstasy, and, under 
Molly's charge, escorted her to the garden gate, and 
hovered outside to see her admitted, while she knocked 
timidly at the door, in the bashful alarm of making her 
first independent visit. 

The loutish man ushered her into a small close room, 
containing a cat, a little spaniel, a green parrot, a spin- 
ning-wheel, and an embroidery frame. There were also the 
two old ladies, dressed with old-fashioned richness, a little 
faded, and a third, 'in a crimson, gold-laced Joseph, stout, 
rubicund, and hearty, to whom Aurelia was introduced 
thus — 

‘‘ Mrs. Hunter, allow me to present to you Miss Delavie, 
a relative of my Lady Belamour. Miss Delavie, Mrs. 
Hunter of Brentford." 

“lam most happy to make your acquaintance, miss," 
said the lady, in a jovial voice, and Aurelia made her court- 
esy, but at that moment the man announced that dinner 
was served, whereupon Mrs. Delia handed Mrs. Hunter in, 
and Mrs. Phoebe took the younger guest. 

The ladies' faces both bore token of their recent atten- 
tion to the preparation of the meal, and the curious dishes 
would have been highly interesting to Betty, but there was 
no large quantity of any, and a single chicken was the piece 
cle resistance, whence very tiny helps were dealt out, and 
there was much unnecessary pressing to take a little more, 
both of that and of the brace of partridges which succeeded 
it. As to conversation, there was room for none, except 
hospitable invitations from the hostesses to take the mor- 
sels that they cut for their guests, praises of the viands 
from Mrs. Hunter, and endeavors to fish at the recipes, 
which theo wners guarded jealously as precious secrets. 

Aurelia sat perfectly silent, as was then reckoned as 
2:)roper m a young lady of her age, except when addressed. 
A good deal of time was also expended in directing John 
Stiggins, the ladies' own man, and George Brown, who 
had ridden with Mrs. Hunter from Brentford, in the dis- 


86 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


posal of the dishes, and the handing of the plates. George 
Brown was the more skilled waiter, and as the man who 
was at home did not brook interference, their disputes were 
rude and audible, and kept the ladies in agonies lest they 
should result in ruin to the best china. 

At last, howeyer, the cloth was removed, walnuts, 
apples, pears, and biscuits were placed on the table, a glass 
of wine poured out for each lady, and the quartette, with 
the cat and dog, drew near the sunny window, where there 
was a little warmth. It was a chilly day, but no one ever 
lighted a fire before the 5th of November, Old Style. 

Then began one of those catechisms which fortunately 
are less unpleasant to youth and simplicity than they are to 
persons of an age to resent inquiry, and who have more re- 
sources of conversation. In truth, Aurelia was in the eyes 
of the Treforth sisters, descendants of a former Sir Jovian, 
only my lady^s poor kinswoman sent down to act gouvern- 
ante to the Wayland brats, who had been impertinently 
quartered in the Belamour household. She would have re- 
ceived no further notice, had it not been reported through 
the servants that “ young miss spent the evenings with 
their own cousin, from whom they had been excluded ever 
since his illness. 

The subject was approached through interrogations on 
Miss Delavie'^s home and breeding, how she had traveled, 
and what were her accomplishments, also whether she were 
quite sure that none of the triad was either imbecile or 
deformed. Mrs. Hunter seemed to have heard wonderful 
rumors about the poor children. 

‘‘ Has their lady mother seen them?^^ 

“Yes, madame. She had been there with them shortly 
before my arrival.'^ 

“ Only once in their lives There was a groan of cen- 
sure such as would have fired the loyal major in defense. 

“ No wonder. Sister Phoebe, my Lady Belamour does 
not lead the life of a tender mother. 

“ She has the little boy. Archer, with her in London, 
Aurelia ventured to say. 

“ And a perfect puppet she makes of the poor child, 
said Mrs. Hunter. “ My sister Chetwynd saw him with 
his mother at a masquer^e, my Lady Belamour flaunting 
as Venus, and he, when he ought to have been in his bed, 


LOVE AND LIFE. 87 

dressed in rose-color and silver, with a bow and arrows, 
and gauze wings on his shoulders 

“ What will that child come to?^^ 

Kemember, Sister Delia, he is no kin of ours. He is 
only a Wayland!"^ returned Mrs. Phoebe, in an accent as if 
the Waylands were the most contemptible of vermin. 

“ I hope,^^ added Mrs. Delia, “ that these children are 
never permitted to incommode our unfortunate cousin, Mr. 
Belaniour. 

“ I trust not, madame,^^ said Aurelia. ‘‘ Their rooms 
are at a distance from his; they are good children, and he 
says he likes to hear young voices in the gardens. 

You have, then, seen Mr. Belamour?^^ 

‘‘I can not say that I have seen him, said Aurelia, 
modestly; “ but I have conversed with him. 

Indeed! Alone with him?^^ 

“ J umbo was there. " 

The two old ladies drew themselves up, while Mrs. 
Hunter chuckled and giggled. ‘‘ Indeed said Mrs. 
Phoebe; “ we should never see a gentleman in private with- 
out each other^'s company, or that of some female com- 
panion.'^^ 

“ I consulted Mrs. Aylward,^^ returned Aurelia, “ and 
she said he was old enough to be my father. 

“ Mrs. Aylward may be a respectable housekeei^er, 
though far too lavish of butcher ^s meat, but I should never 
have recourse to her on a matter of decorum, said Mrs. 
Phoebe. 

Aurelia ^s cheeks burned, but she' still defended herself. 
“ I have heard from my father and my sister, she said, 
‘‘ and they make no objection. 

“ Hoity-toity! What means this heat, miss?^^ exclaimed 
Mrs. Phoebe; “lam only telling you, as a kindness, what 
we should have thought becoming with regard even to a 
blood relation of our own.^^ 

“ Thank you, ma^a^n,^^ said Aurelia; “ but, you see, 
you are so much nearer his age, that the cases are not 
alike. 

She said it in all simplicity, and did not perceive, at 
first, why the two sisters drew themselves up in so much 
offense, or why Mrs. Hunter looked so much amused, and 
cried, “ Oh, fy, for shame, you saucy chit! Bless mel^^ 
she continued, more good-naturedly, “ Cousin Phoebe, 


88 


LOVE 'AND LIFE. 


times are changed since we were young, and poor Sir Jovian 
and his brother were the county beaus. The child is right 
enough when one comes to think of it; and for my part, I 
should be glad that poor Mr. Amyas had some one young 
and cheerful about him. It is only a pity his nephew, the 
young baronet, never comes down to see him.^^ 

“Like mother like son,’\«aid Mrs. Phoebe; “ I grieve 
to think what the old place will come to. 

“ Well,^^ said Mrs. Hunter, “ I do not hear the young 
gentleman ill spoken of; though, morels the pity, he is in 
a bad school with Colonel Mar for his commanding officer, 
the fine gallant who is making his mother the talk of the 
townl^^ 

The gossip and scandal then waxed fast and furious on 
the authority of Mrs. Hunter^s sister, but no one paid any 
more attention to Aurelia, except that when there was an ad- 
journment to the next room, she was treated with such double 
stiffness and ceremony as to make her feel that she had 
given great offense, and was highly disapproved of by all 
but Mrs. Hunter. And Aurelia could not like her, for her 
gossip had been far broader and coarser than that of the 
Mistresses Treforth, who, though more bitter, were more of 
gentlewomen. Happily much of what passed was perfectly 
unintelligible to Betty^s- carefully shielded pupil, who sat 
all the time with the cat on her lap, listening to its purr- 
ing music, but feeling much more inclined to believe noth- 
ing against my lady, after her father’s example, than to 
agree with those who were so evidently prejudiced. Tea 
was brought in delicate porcelain cups, then followed cards, 
which made the time pass less drearily till supper. This 
consisted of dishes still tinier than those at dinner, and it 
was scarcely ended when it was announced that Jumbo 
had come for Miss Delavie. 

Gladly she departed, after an exchange of courtesies, hap- 
pily not hearing the words behind her: 

“ An artful young minx.” 

“ And imagine the impudence of securing Jumbo’s at- 
tendance, forsooth!” 

“ Nay,” said Mrs. Hunter, “ she seemed to me a pretty 
modest young gentlewoman enough. ” 

“ Pretty! Yes, she comes of my lady’s own stock, and 
will be just such another. ” 

“Yes; it is quite plain that it is true that my lady sent 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


89 


her here because she had been spreading the white apron 
for the young baronet.'’^ 

‘‘ And now she is tiying her arts on poor Cousin Amyas 
Belamour. You heard how she would take no advice, and 
rei^lied with impertinence. 

‘‘ Shall you give my lady a hint?^'’ 

“ Not I. I have been treated with too much insolence 
by Lady Belamour to interfere with her again/'' said Mrs. 
Phoebe, drawing herself up; “I shall let things take their 
course unless I can remonstrate with my own kinsman. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE FLUTTER OF HIS WIHGS. 

Then is Love’s hour to stray! 

Oh, how he flies away! 

T. Moore. 

Meanwhile Aurelia, mounted on a pair of pattens 
brought by the negro to keep her above the dew, was cross- 
mg the park by the light of a fine hunter^s moon, Jumbo 
marching at a respectful distance in the rear. He kept on 
chuckling to himself with glee, and when she looked round 
at him, he informed her with great exultation that “ Mash- 
had not been alone. His honor had been to see him. 
Mash- so glad."^ 

Sir Amyas!^^ exclaimed Aurelia: Is he there still?^^ 
‘‘ Xo, missie. He went away before supper, ■'h 
‘‘ Hid he see the young ladies?^"’ 

Oh, yes, missie. He came before mash- up, quite 
promiskius,^^ said Jumbo, who loved a long word. “I 
tell him, wait till mash be dress, and took him to summer 
parlor. He see little missies out in garden; ask what 
chilh-en it was. His honor" s sisters, Missie Fay, Missie 
Letty, Missie Amy, I say! His honor wonder. ‘ My sis- 
ters/ he say, ‘ my sisters here," and out he goes like fiash 
of lightning and was in among them."" 

Aurelia"s first thought was, Oh, I hope they were clean 
and neat, and that they behaved themselves. I wish I hadr 
been at home."" Whei*ewith followed the recollection that 
Sir Amyas had been called her beau, and her cheeks burned; 
but the recent disagreeable lecture on etiquette showed her 
that it would only have led to embarrassment and vexation 


90 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


to have ]iad any question of an interview with a young gen- 
tleman by so little her elder. Nor would she have known 
what to say to him. Old Mr. Belamour in the dark was a 
very different matter, and she had probably had an escape 
from much awkardness. 

Molly received her with her favorite exclamation: 
“ Lawk, miss, and who do you think have been here?^^ 

“ Jumbo told me, Molly. 

“ Ain^t he a perfect pictur of a man? And such a gen- 
tleman ! He gave me a whole goolden guinea for my good 
care of his little sisters, and says he: ‘ Their father shall 
hear of them, and what little ladies they be.^ 

“ I am glad they behaved themselves prettily.’’^ 

‘‘Yes, that they did, ma^am. It was good luck that 
they had not been grubbing in their gardens, as you lets 
^em do, ma’am, but they was all as clean as a whistle, a 
picking up horse-chestnuts under the big tree at the corner 
of the bowling-green, when out on the steps we sees him, 
looking more like an angel than a man, in his red coat, 
and the goold things on his shoulders, and out he comes! 
Miss Amy, she was afeard at first: ‘ Be the soldiers a-com- 
ing?’ says she, and runs to me; but Miss Letty, she holds 
out her arms, and says, ‘ It’s my papa,’ and Miss Fay, she 
stood looking without a word. Then when his honor was 
in among them : ‘ My little sisters, my dear little sisters,’ 
says he, ‘ don’t you know me?’ and down he goes-on one 
knee in the grass, never heeding his beautiful white small- 
clothes, if you’ll believe me, miss, and holds out his arms, 
and gets Miss Fay into one arm, and Miss Letty into 
t’other, and then Miss Amy runs up, and he kisses them 
all. Then Miss Letty says again ‘ Are you my papa from 
foreign parts?’ and he laughs and says: ‘ No, little one, 
I’m your brother. Did you never hear of your brother 
Amyas?’ and Miss Fay stood off a little and clapped her 
hands, and says: ‘ 0 brother Amyas, how beautiful you 
are!’” 

Aurelia could not help longing to know whether she had 
been mentioned, but she did not like to inquire, and she 
was obliged to rest satisfied with the assurance that her lit- 
tle girls had comported themselves like jewels, like lambs, 
like darling lumps of sugar, or whatever metaphors were 
suggested by the imagination of Molly, who had, apparent- 
ly, usurped the entire credit of their good manners. It was 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


91 


impossible to help feeling a little aggrieved, or, maugre all 
inconvenient proprieties, to avoid wishing to have been 
under the horse-chestnut-tree, even though she might have 
shown herself just such a bashful little speechless fool as 
she had been when Sir Amyas had danced with her at Car- 
minster. 

She was destined to hear a good deal more of the visitor 
the next day. The children met her with the cry of 
‘‘ Cousin Aura, oar brother “ Our big beautiful brother 
— Brother Amyas. They were with difficulty calmed 
into saying their prayers, and Amoret startled the little 
congregation by adding to “ bless my father, my mother, 
my brothers and sisters, “ and pray bless big brother 
Amyas best of all, for I love him very much indeed 

All day little facts about “ brother Amyas kept break- 
ing out. Brother Amyas had beautiful gold lace, brother 
Amyas had a red-and- white feather; brother Amyas had 
given Fay and Letty.each a ride on his shoulder, but Amy 
was afraid; brother Amyas said their papa would love them 
very much. He had given them each a new silver shil- 
ling, and Amoret had in . return presented him with her 
dolFs beautiful pink back-string that Cousin Aura had 
made for her. This wonderful brother had asked who had 
taught them to be such pretty little gentlewomen, and at 
this Aurelia ^s heart beat a little, but provoking Fidelia re- 
plied: “ I told him my Mammy Rolfe taught me to be gen- 
teel, and Letty added: “ And he said Fay was a conceited 
little pussy cat. 

A strange indefinable feeling between self-respect and 
shyness m^e Aurelia shrink from the point-blank question 
whether the ungrateful little things had acknowledged 
their obligations to her. She was always hoping they would 
say something of their own accord, and always disap- 
pointed. 

Evening came, and she eagerly repaired to the dark 
room, wondering, yet half dreading to enter on the subject, 
and beginning by an apology for having by no means per- 
fected herself in Priam^s visit to Achilles. 

‘‘ If you have been making visits, said Mr. Belamour, 

I too have had a visitor.-’^ 

The children told me so,^^ she answered. 

‘‘ He was greatly delighted with them,"" said Mr. Bela- 
mour. 


92 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


“ While they, poor little things, never were more hajDpy 
in their lives. He must have been very kind to them, yet 
he did notlinow that they were here."’^ 

‘‘ His mother is not communicative respecting them. 
Ladies who love power seek to preserve it by making little 
m3"steries.-’^' 

It was to see you, sir, that he came.-’^ 

Yes. He ingenuously avowed that he had always been 
urged to do so by liis step-father, but his mother has alwa3'S 
put obstacles in the way, and assured him that he would 
not gain admission. I have certainly refused to see heiv 
but this is a very different matter — my brother's only child, 
my godson, and my ward!^^ 

‘‘ I am very glad he has come to see you, sir, and I am 
sure it has given you pleasure."’^ 

“ Pleasure in seeing that he is a lad of parts, and of an 
ingenuous, affectionate, honest nature, but regret in per- 
ceiving how I have failed in the confidence that his father 
reposed in me. 

“ But, sir, you could not help it!^^ 

“ Once I could not. It was, I know not how long, be- 
fore I knew that my brother was no more; and thinking 
myself dead to the world and the world to me, I took, no 
heed to what, it now seems to me, I was told of guardian- 
ship to the boy. I was incapable of fulfilling any such 
charge, and I shunned the pain of hearing of it,^^ he con- 
tinued, rather as if talking to himself than to his auditor. 
‘‘ When I could, I gave them my name, and they asked no 
more. Yet what did they tell me of a sealed letter from 
my brother, addressed to me? True, I heard of it more 
than once, but I could ask no one to read it to me, and I 
closed my ears. In Wayland^s hands I knew the youth 
was well cared for, and only now do I feel that I have ill 
requited my brother's confidence. o 

“Indeed, sir, I can not see how you coidd have done 
otherwise,^ ^ said Aurelia, who could not bear to hear his 
tone of self-reproach. 

“ My amiable visitor!’" he exclaimed, as though recalled 
to a sense of her presence. “ Excuse the absence of mind 
which has inflicted on you the selfish murmurs of the old 
recluse. Tell me how you prospered with my cousins, 
whom I remember as sprightly maidens. Phcebe had some- 
what of the prude, Delia of the coquette.’’ 


LOVE AXD LIFE. 


93 


‘‘I could imagine what you say of Mistress Phcebe, sir, 
better than of Mistress Delia. 

“ Had they any guests to meet you?^^ 

“ A Mrs. Hunter, sir, from Brentford, a doctor ^s wife, 
I suppose. 

‘‘You are right. She was a cousin of theirs on the other 
side of the house, a loud-voiced buxom lass, who was 
thought to have married beneath her when she took Dr. 
Hunter; but apparently they have forgiven her.^^ 

Mr. Belamour was evidently much interested and amused 
by Aurelia^s small experiences and observations, such as 
they were. In spite of the sense of past omission which 
had been aroused by his nephew^ s visit, it had evidently 
raised his spirits, for be laughed when Aurelia spiced her 
descriptions with a little playful archness, and his voice be- 
came more cheery. 

So, too, it was on the ensuing evening when Aurelia, to 
compensate for the last day’s neglect, came primed with 
three or four pages of the conversation between Priam and 
Achilles, which she rehearsed with great feeling, thinking, 
like Pelides himself, of her own father and home. It was 
requited with a murmured “ Bravo,” and Mr. Belamour 
then begged of her, if she were not weary, to favor him 
with the “ Nightingale Song,” Jumbo as usual accompany- 
ing her with his violin. At the close there was again a 
“ Bravo! Truly exquisite!” in a tone as if the hermit 
were really finding youth and life again. Once more, at his 
request, she sung, and was applauded with even more 
fervor, with a certain tremulous eagerness in the voice. 
AYt there was probably a dread of the excitement being too 
much, for this was followed by “ Thank you, kind song- 
stress, I could listen forever, but it is becoming late, and I 
must not detain you longer.” 

She found herself handed out of the room, with some- 
what curtailed good-nights, although nine o’clock, her 
usual signal, had not yet struck. When she came into the 
lamp-lighted hall, J umbo was grinning and nodding like a 
maniac, and when she asked what was the matter, he only 
rolled his eyes, and said, “ Missie good! Mas’r like 
music!” 

The repressed excitability she had detected made her 
vaguely nervous (not that she would have so called herself), 
and as the next day was the blank Sunday, she appeased 


94 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


and worked off her restlessness by walking with the chil- 
dren to Sedhurst church. It was the sixteenth Sunday 
after Trinity, and the preacher, who had caught somewhat 
of the fire of Wesley and Whitefield, preached a sermon 
which arrested her attention, and filled her with new 
thoughts. Taking the Epistle and Gospel in connection, 
he showed the death-in-life of mdifference, and the quicken- 
ing touch of the Divine Love, awakening the dead spirit 
into’ true life. On that life, with its glow of love, hope, 
and joy, the preacher dwelt with enthusiasm such as 
Aurelia had never heard, and which carried her quite out 
of herself. Tears of emotion trembled in her eyes, and she 
felt a longing desire to walk on in that path of love to her 
Maker, whom she seemed to have never known before. 

She talked with a new fervor to the cliildren of the birds 
and flowers, and all the fair things they loved, as the gifts 
of their Eather in Heaven; and when she gathered them 
round the large pictured Bible, it was to the Gospel that 
she turned as she strove to draw their souls to the appre- 
ciation of the Redeeming Love there shown. She saw in 
Eay^s eyes and thoughtful brow that the child was taking 
it in, though differently from Amy, who wanted to kiss the 
picture, while Letty asked those babyish material questions 
about Heaven that puzzle wiser heads than Aurelia ^s to 
answer. 

So full was she of the thought, that she forgot her sense 
of sometliing strange and unaccountable in Mr. BelamouEs 
manner before the evening, nor was there anything to re- 
mind her of it afresh, for he was as calmly grave and kindly 
courteous as ever; and he soon led her to pour forth all her 
impressions of the day. Indeed she repeated to him great 
part of the sermon, with a voice quivering with earnestness 
and emotion. He was not stirred in the same way as she 
had been, saying in his pensive meditative way, “ The 
preacher is right. Love is life. The misfortune is when 
we stake our all on one love alone, and that melts from us. 
Then mdeed there is death — ^living death I’ ^ 

But there is never-failing love, and new life that never 
diesl^^ cried Aurelia, almost transported out of herself. 

“ May you ever keej) hold of both unobscured, my sweet 
child, he returned, with a sadness that rej^ressed and 
drove her back into herself again, feeling far too childish 
and unworthy to help him to that new life and love; 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 95 

though her young heart yearned over liim in his desolation, 
and her soul was full of supplication for him. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE CAHOU OF WINDSOR. 

Turn, gentle hennit of the dale. 

Goldsmith. 

My child, will you do me a favor said Mr. Belamour 
the next evening, in a tone no longer formal, but paternal. 
‘‘ Take this packet (he put one into the girFs hand) “ to 
the light, and inform me what is the superscription.''^ 

It was a thick letter, with a large red wax seal, bearing 
the well-known arms of Belamour and Delavie, and the ad- 
dress was 

To Amyas Belamour, Esq., K.O., 

OF THE INNER TEMPLE, LONDON. 

To he opened after my death. 

, JoviAH Belamour, 

Dec. Utn, 1727. 

I thought so,^^ said Mr. Belamour, when she returned 
to him with the intelligence. ‘‘ Little did my poor brother 
guess how long it would be unopened! Will my gentle 
friend confer another obligation on me?^^ 

Aurelia made her ready assent, hoping to be asked to 
read the letter, when he continued, “ I can not read this 
myself. £ven could I bear the light, the attempt to lix 
my eyes sends darts shooting through my brain, which 
would take away my very power of comprehension. But,' " 
he continued, ‘‘ there are only two men living to whom I 
could intrust my brother's last words to me. One, your 
own good father, is out of reach; the other has frequently 
proffered his good offices and has been rejected. Would 
you add to your kindness that of writing to entreat my old 
friend. Dr. Godfrey, to favor with a visit one who has too 
often and ungratefully refused hirii admission." 

Feminine curiosity felt balked, but Aurelia was ashamed 
of the sensation, and undertook the task. Instructions 
were given her that she was to write — 


96 ' 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


‘‘ If Amyas Belamour^s old Schoolfellow and Friend can 
overlook and pardon the undeserved Rebuffs to Ilis Con- 
stancy and Solicitude for a lonely and sullen Wretch^ and 
will once more come and si 3 end a Night at Bowstead, he 
will confer an inestimable Favor uj^on one who is more 
sensible of his Goodness than when it has been previously 
offered.-’^ 

This letter, written in Aurelia^ s- best Italian hand, on a 
large sheet of paper, she bi*ought with her the next even- 
ing. She was bidden to fold down the exact place for the 
signature, which Mr. Belamour proceeded to affix, and she 
was then to catry it to the candle in the lobby, and there 
fold, seal, and address it to the Rev. Edward Godfrey, 
D.D., Canon of Windsor, Windsor. She found the A. 
Belamour very fairly written, except that it was not hori- 
zontal, and she performed the rest of the task with lady-like 
^dexterity, sealing it with a ring that had been supplied for 
the 2Dur2:>ose. It did not, as she had expected,' bear the 
Belamour sheaf of arrows, but was a gem, representing a 
sleeihng Cupid with folded wings, so beautiful that she 
asked leave to take another impression for Harriet, who 
collected seals, after the fashion of the day. 

‘‘ You are welcome, Mr. Belamour replied. ‘‘ I doubt 
its great antiquity, since the story of Cupid and Psyche can 
not be traced beyond Apuleius. I used it because I)r. God- 
frey will remember it. He was with me at Rome when I 
purchased it. ’ ’ 

The ring was of the size for a lady^s finger, and Aurelia 
durst ask no more. 

How the letter was sent she knew not, but Mrs. Aylward 
was summoned to Mr. Belamour’ s room, and . desired to 
have a room ready at any time for his friend. 

Three days later, toward sunset, a substantial-looking 
clergyman, attended by two servants, rode up to the door; 
and was immediately ap2)ropriated by Jumbo, disappear- 
ing into the mysterious apartments; Aurelia expected no 
summons that night, but at the usual hour, the negro 
brought a special request for the lionor of her society; and 
as she entered the dark room, Mr. Belamour said, My 
fair and charitable visitor will j^ermit me to jDresent to her 
my old and valued friend. Dr. Godfrey.” He laid the 
hand he had taken on one that returned a little gentleman- 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


97 


ly acknowledgment, while a kind fatherly voice said, The 
lady must jiardon me if I do not venture to hand her to her 
chair. 

Thank you, sir, I am close to my seat.’’^ 

Your visitors acquire blind eyes, Belamour,'^ said Dr. 
Godfrey, cheerfully. 

‘‘ Most truly they become eyes to the blind,^^ was the an- 
swer. I feel myself a man of the world again, since this 
amiable young lady has conned the papers on my belialf, 
and given herself the trouble of learning the choicest jias- 
sages of the poets to repeat to me. ^ ^ 

“ You are very good, sir,^^ returned Aurelia; it is my 
great pleasure. 

“ That I can well believe, said Dr. Godfrey. Have 
these agreeable recitations made you acquainted with the 
new poem on the ‘ Seasons,^ by Mr. James Thomson 
‘‘ No, replied Mr. Belamour, ‘‘ my acquaintance with 
the belles lettres ceased nine years ago.^^ 

“ The descriptions have been thought extremely effect- 
ive. Those of autumn were recalled to* my mind on my 
way.^^ 

Dr. Godfrey proceeded to recite some twenty lines of 
blank verse, for in those days people had more patience 
and fewer books, and exercised their memories much more 
than their descendants do. Listening was far from being 
thought tedious. 


‘But see the fading, many-colored roads, 

Shade deepening over shade, the country round 
Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dusk and dim, 
Of every hue, from wan, declining green. 

To sooty dark.’ ” 


The lines had a strange charm to one who had lived in 
darkness through so many revolving years. Mr. Belamour 
eagerly thanked his friend, and on the offer to lend him the 
book, begged that it might be ordered for him, and that 
any other new and interesting work might be sent to him 
that was suitable to the fair lips on which he was de- 
pendent. 

‘‘You are secure with Mr. Thomson,^ ^ said the doctor. 
“ Hear the conclusion of his final hymn: 

‘ • ‘ When even at last the solemn hour shall come. 

And wing my mystic flight to future worlds. 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers, 

Will rising wonders sing. I can not go 
Where Universal Love not smiles around, 

Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns, 

From seeming evil still educing good, 

And better thence again, and better still. 

In intinite progression. But I lose 
Myself in Him, in Light ineffable; 

Come, then, expressive Silence, mine the praise.’ ” 

‘‘‘Universal Love!^^^ repeated Mr. Belamour; “the 
poet sings as you do, my amiable friend ! I can conceive the 
idea better than I could a few months ago.'^^ 

“ ‘ From seeming evil, still educing good,’ ” 

quoted Dr. Godfred earnestly, as if feeling his way. 

“ More of this another time,^^ said Mr. Belamour hastily. 
“ What say the critics respecting this new aspirant?^ ^ 

The ensuing conversation much interested Aurelia, as it 
was on the men of letters whose names had long been 
familiar to her, and whom the two gentlemen had person- 
ally known. She heard of Pope, still living at Twicken- 
ham, and of his bickerings with Lady Mary- Woidley Mon- 
tagu; of young Horace AValpole, who would never rival his 
father as a politician, but who was beginning his course as 
a dilettante, and actually pretending to prefer the barbarous 
Gothic to the classic Italian. However, his taste might be 
improved, since he was going to make the grand tour in 
company with Mr. Gray, a rismg young poet, in whom Dr. 
Godfrey took interest, as an Etonian and a Cantab. 

At nine o^ clock Mr. Belamour requested Miss Delavie 
to let him depute to her the doing the honors of the supper- 
table to his friend, who would return to him when she re- 
tired for the night. 

Then it was that she first saw the guest, a fine, dignified 
clergyman, in a large gray wig, with a benignant counte- 
nance, rehiindmg her of the Dean of Carmmster. When 
she was little, the dean had bestowed on her comfits and 
kisses; but since she had outgrown these attentions, he was 
wont to notice her only by a condescending nod, and she 
Avould no more have thought of conversing with him at 
table than in his stall in the cathedral. Thus it was sur- 
prising to find herself talked to, as Betty might have been, 
by this reverend personage, who kindly satisfied her curi- 
osity about the king, queen and princesses, but with a dis- 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


99 


cretion which did not diminish that bhnd loyalty which saw 
no defects in “ our good king/^ though he was George II. 
She likewise answered a few questions about Mr. Bela- 
mour^s tastes and habits, put in a very different manner 
from those of the Mistresses Treforth, and as soon as su]!- 
per was over she rose and retired. 

She did not see Dr. Godfrey again until he was ready for 
a late breakfast, having been up nearly the whole night 
with his friend. His horses were ordered immediately after 
the meal, as he had an appointment in London, and he 
began it somewhat thoughtfully; but he presently looked 
up, and said, 

Madame, you must excuse me, fwas silent from think- 
ing how I can adequately express my respect and gratitude 
for you.^^ 

“ I beg your i^ardon, sir,^^ exclaimed Aurelia, thinking 
her ears mistaken. 

‘‘ My gratitude, he repeated, “ for the inestimable bless- 
ing you have been to my dear and much valued friend, in 
rousing him from that wretched state of despondency in 
which no one could approach him.^^ 

You are too good, sir,^^ returned Aurelia. ‘‘It was 
he who sent for me. " 

“ I know you did it in all simplicity, my dear child — ^for- 
give the epithet, I have daughters of my own, and thankful 
should I be if one of them could have produced such 
effects. I tell you, madame, my dear friend, one of the 
most estimable and brilliant men of his day, was an utter 
wreck, both in mind and body, through the cruel machina- 
tions of an unprincipled woman. How much was due to 
the actual injury from his wound, how much to grief and 
remorse. Heaven only knows, but the death of his brother, 
who alone had authority with him, left him thus to cut 
himself off entirely in this utter darkness and despair. I 
called at first monthly, then yearly, after the melancholy 
catastrophe, and held many consultations with good Mr. 
Wayland, but all in vain. It was reserved for your sweet 
notes to awaken and recall him to what I trust is indeed 
new life. 

Tears filled Aurelia^s eyes, and she could only murmur 
something about being very glad. 

“ Yes,^^ 2^^^1’sued Dr. Godfrey, “ it is as if I saw him ris- 
ing from his living tomb in all senses of the word. I find 


100 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


that your artless Sunday evening conversations have even 
penetrated the inner hopeless gloom, still more grievous 
than the outer darkness in which he lived. 

Indeed, sir, I never meant to be presumptuous. 

“ God^s blessing on such presumption, my good child ! 
If you had been fully aware of liis state of mind, you might 
never have ventured nor have touched the sealed heart, as 
you have done, as I perceive, in your ignorance, out of 
your obedient reverence to the Lord^s-day. Am I not 
right?'’-’ 

‘‘ Yes, sir, I thought one could not repeat plays and 
poems on a Sunday^ and I was frightened when I found 
those other things were strange to him ; but he bade me go 
011.'’^ 

For the sake of the music of your voice, as he tells me, 
at first; but afterward because you became the messenger 
of hope to one who had long lain in the shadow of death, 
thinking pardon and mercy too much out of reach to be 
sought for. You have awakened prayer within him once 
more.^^ 

She could not speak, and Dr. Godfrey continued, Y^ou 
will be glad to hear that I am to see the curate on my way 
through Brentford, and arrange with him at times to read 
prayers in the outer room. What is it?^^ he added; ‘‘ you 
look somewhat doubtful. 

Only, sir, perhaps I ought not to say so, but I can not 
think Mr. Beiamour will ever care for poor Mr. Greaves. 
If he could only hear that gentleman who comes to Sed- 
hurst! I never knew how much fire could be put into the 
service itself, and yet I have often been at Carminster 
Cathedral.-’'’ 

‘‘ True, my dear young lady. These enthusiasts seem 
to be kindling a new fire in the church, but I am not yet so 
convinced of their orthodoxy and wisdom as to trust them 
unreservedly; and zeal pushed too far might offend our 
poor recluse, and alienate liim more than ever. He is 
likely to profit more by the direct words of the Church her- 
self, read without personal meaning, than by the individual 
exhortations of some devout stranger.-’^ 

‘‘ Yes, sir. Thank you, I never meant to question your 
judgment. Indeed I did not.^^ 

The horses were here announced, and Dr. Godfrey said, 

“ Then I leave him to you with a grateful heart. ^ I am 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


101 


beginning to hope that there is much h3rpochondriacism in 
his condition, and that this may pass away with his de- 
spondency. I hope before many weeks are over to come 
and visit him again, before I go to my parish in Dorset- 
shire. 

Then, with a fatherly blessing, the canon took his leave. 

He was scarcely gone before there was a great rustling in 
the hall, and Mrs. Phoebe and Mrs. Delia Treforth were 
announced. Aurelia was surprised, for she had been de- 
cidedly sensible of their disapproval when she made her 
visit of ceremony after her entertainment by them. She, 
however, had underrated the force of the magnet of curi- 
osity. They had come to inquire about the visitor, who 
had actually splent a night at the park. They knew who 
he was, for “ Ned Godfrey had been a frequent guest at 
Bows'tead in the youth of all parties, and they were an- 
noyed that he had not paid his respects to them. 

“ It would have been only fitting to have sent for us, as 
relations of the family, to assist in entertaining him,^^ 
said Mrs. Phoebe. ‘‘ Pray, miss, did my eccentric cousin 
place you in the position of hostess?^^ 

It fell to me, madame,^^ said Aurelia. 

‘‘You could have asked for our support, said Mrs. 
Phoebe, severely. “ It would have become you better, 
above all when Sir Amyas Belamour himself was here.'’^ 

“ He has only been here while I was with you, madame, 
and was gone before my return. 

“ That is true,^^ but Mrs. Phoebe looked at the girl so 
inquisitively that her color rose in anger, and she ex- 
claimed, “ Madame, I know not what you mean!^' 

“ There, sister,^^ said Mrs. Delia, more kindly. “ She 
is but a child, and Bet Batley is a gossip. She would not 
know his honor in the dark from the blackamoor gomg 
down to visit his sweetheart. 

Very glad was Aurelia when the ladies courtesied them- 
selves out of her summer parlor, declaring they wished to 
speak to Mrs. Aylward, who she knew could assure them 
of the absurdity of these implied suspicions. 

And Mrs. Aylward, who detested the two ladies, and re- 
pelled their meddling, stiffly assured them both of Miss 
Delavie^s discretion and her own vigilance, which placed 
visits from the young baronet beyond the bounds of possi- 
bility. Supposing his honor should again visit his uncle. 


102 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


she should tahe care to be present at any interview with the 
young lady. She trusted that she knew her duty, and so 
did Miss Delavie. 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE QUEEK' OF BEAUTY. 

O bright regina, who made thee so faire, 

Who made thy color vermeilie and Tvhite? 

Now marveile I nothing that ye do hight 
The quene of love. 

Chaucer. 

Only a week had elapsed before the quiet of Bowstead 
was again disturbed by the arrival of two grooms, with 
orders that everything should be made ready the next day 
for the arrival of my lady, who was on her way to Car- 
minster for a few weeks, and afterward to Bath. Forth- 
with Mrs. Aylward and her subordinates fell into a frenzy 
of opening shutters, lighting fires, laying down carpets and 
uncovering furniture. Scrubbing was the daily task of 
the maids, and there was nothing extra possible in that 
line, but there was hurry enough to exacerbate the temper, 
and when Aurelia offered her services she was tartly told 
that she could solely be useful by keeping the children out 
of the way; for in spite of all rebuffs, they persisted in 
haunting the footstej)s of the housekeeper and maids. Fay 
gazing with delight at the splendors that were revealed, 
Amy proffering undesired aid, Letty dancing in the most 
inconvenient places, romancing about her mamma and 
little brother, and making sure that her big beautiful 
brother was also coming. 

They were very unwilling to let Aurelia call them away 
to practice them in bridling, courtesy ing, and saying, “ Yes, 
madarne,"’^ according to the laws of good breeding so care- 
fully inculcated by sister at home. So anxious was she 
that she tried them over and over again till they were 
wearied out, and became so cross and naughty that noth- 
ing restored good-humor except gathering blackberries to 
feast brother Archer. 

The intelligence produced less apparent excitement in 
the dark chamber. 'WTien Aurelia, in an eager, awe- 
stricken voice began, “ Oh, sir, have you heard that my 
lady is coming? he calmly replied. 


LOVE AIsD LIFE. 


loa 


“ The sounds in the house have amply heralded her, to 
say nothing of Jumbo. 

“ I wonder what she will do! 

You will not long have known her, my fair friend, 
without discovering that she is one of the most inscrutable 
of her sex. The mere endeavor to guess at her plans only 
produces harassing surmises and alarms. 

“ Do you think, sir, she can mean to take me away?'’^ 

‘‘ I suppose that would be emancipation to you, my poor 
child. ^ ^ 

“ I should dance to find myself going home,^^ said 
Aurelia, ‘‘ yet how could I bear to leave my little girls, or 
you, sir? Oh! if you could only live at the Great House, 
at home, I should be quite happy. 

‘‘ Then you would not willingly abandon the recluse?'’^ 
Indeed,^ ^ she said with a quivering in her voice, ‘‘ I 
can not endure the notion. You have been so kind and 
good to me, sir, and I do so enjoy coming to you. And 
you would be all alone again with Jumbo! Oh, sir, could 
you not drive down if all the coach windows were close 
shut up? You would have my papa to talk to!'’^ 

“ And what would your papa say to having a miserable 
old hermit inflicted on him?^^ 

He would be only too glad.^^ 

‘‘ Ho, no, my gentle friend, there are other reasons. I 
could not make my abode in Lady Belamour^s house, 
while in that of my nephew, my natural home, I have a 
right to drag out what remains oi this existence of mine. 
Hay, are you weeping, my sweet child? That must not be; 
your young life must take no darkness from mine. Even 
should Lady Belamour's arbitrary caprice bear you off 
without another meeting, remember that you have given 
me many more happy hours than I ever supposed to be in 
store for me, and have opened doors which shall not be 
closed again. 

‘‘ Y'ou will get some one to recite to you?^^ entreated 
Aurelia, her voice most unsteady. 

‘‘ Godfrey shall seek out some j)oor scholar or exhausted 
poetaster, with a proviso that he never inflicts his own 
pieces on me,^^ said Mr. Belamour, in a tone more as if he 
wished to console her than as if it were a pleasing pros- 
pect. “ Hever fear, gentle monitress, I will not sink into 
the stagnation from which your voice awoke' me. Heither 


104 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


Godfrey nor my neiihew would allow it. Come, let us put 
it from our minds. It has always been my experience, 
that whatever I expected from my much admired sister-in- 
law, that was the exact reverse of what she actually did. 
^Therefore let us attend to other topics, though I wager 
that you have no fresh acquisitions for me to-day.-’^ 

I am ashamed, sir, but I could not fix my mind even 
to a most frightful description of wolves in Mr. Thomson's 
MVinter.^^^ 

“ That were scarcely a soothing subject; but we might 
find calm in something less agitating and more familiar. 
Perhaps you can recall something too firmly imprinted on 
your memory to be disturbed by these emotions. 

Aurelia bethought herself that she must not disappoint 
her friend on what might prove their last evening; she be- 
gan very unsteadily : 

“ ‘ Hence, loathed Melanchol}’’.’ ” 

However by the time ‘‘ JonsoiPs learned sock was on, 
her mechanical repetition had become animated, and she 
had restored herself to equanimity. When the clock 
struck nine, her auditor added to his thanks, ‘‘ In case we 
should not meet again thus, let me beg of my kind visitor 
to wear this ring in memory of one to whom she has 
brought a breath indeed from L ^Allegro itself. It will not 
be too large. It was made for a lady. •’ ^ 

And amid her tearful thanks she felt a light kiss on her 
fingers, a kiss from hairy^ lijis, revealing to her that the 
hermit must possess a beard : a fact, which, in the close- 
shaven Hanoverian days, conveyed a sense of squalor and 
neglect almost amounting to horror. 

In her own room she dropped many a tear over the ring, 
which was of course the Cupid intaglio, and she spent the 
night in strange mixed dreams and yearnings, divided be- 
tween her father, Betty, and Eugene on the one hand, and 
Mr. Belamour and the children on the other. Homesick 
as she sometimes felt, dull as Bowstead was, she should be 
sadly grieved to leave those to whom she felt herself almost 
necessary, though her choice must needs be for her home. 

Early the next day arrived an old roomy berlin, loaded 
heavily with luggage, and so stuffed with men and maids 
that four stout horses had much ado to bring it up to the 
door. The servants, grumbling heartily, declared that my 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


105 ^ 


My was only going to lie here for a single night, and that 
Sir Amyas was not with her. 

Late in the afternoon a couple of outriders appeared to 
say that the great lady was close at hand ; and Aurelia, in 
her best blue sack, and Indian muslin cap, edged with 
Flanders lace, had her three little charges, all in white 
with red shoes, red sashes, and red ribbons in their, caps, 
drawn up in the hall to welcome their mother. 

Up swept the coach with six horses, Mr. Dove enthroned 
on the driving-seat and a row of lackeys behind — runners 
in fact, who at times rested themselves by an upright swing 
on the foot-board. 

The door of the gorgeous machine was thrown open, and 
forth sprung a pretty little boy. Next descended the 
friendly form of Mrs. Dove, then a smart person, who was 
my lady^s own woman, and finally something dazzlingly 
grand and beautiful in feathers, light blue, and silver. 

Aurelia made her reverence, and so did the little triad ; 
the great lady bent her head, and gave a light kiss to the 
brow of each child, and the boy sprung forward, crying: 
‘‘ You are my sisters. You must play with mo, and do 
whatever I choose. Amoret and he began kissing on the 
spot, but Fdelia, regarding must as a forbidden word, 
looked up at Aurelia with an inquiring protest in her eyes; 
but it was not heeded, in the doubt whether to follow Lady 
Belamour, who, with a stately greeting to Mrs. Alyward, 
had sailed into the withdrawing-room. The question was 
decided by Mrs. Aylward standing back to make room, and 
motioning her forward, so she entered, Letty preceding her 
and Fay clinging to her. 

By the hearth stood the magnificent figure, holding out 
a long, beautiful, beringed hand, which Aurelia shyly 
kissed, bending as before a queen, while her forehead re - 
ceived the same slight salute as had been given to the little 
girls. ‘‘ My cousin Delavie^s own daughter,^^ said the lady:; 
“ You have the family likeness/^ 

“ So I have been told, madame.^^ 

“ Your father is well, I hope?^^ 

“ He was pretty well, I thank your ladyship, when I 
heard from my sister ten days ago.'’^ 

“ I shall see him in a week's time, and ghall report well 
of his little daughter, " said Lady Belamour kindly. ‘‘1 


106 


LOVE Als^’D LIFE. 


am under obligations to 3^011, my dear. You seem to have 
tamed my little savages. 

Aurelia was amazed, for the universal awe of my lady 
had made her expect a harsh and severe Semiramis style of 
woman, whereas she certainly saw a majestic beauty, but 
with none of the terrors that she had anticipated. The 
voice was musical and perfectly modulated, the manner 
more caressing than imperious toward herself, and studi- 
ously polite to the housekeeper. While orders were being 
given as to arrangements, Aurelia took in the full details 
of the person of whom she had heard so much. It seemed 
incredible that Lady Belamour could have been mother to 
contemporaries of Betty, for she looked younger than Betty 
herself. Her symmetry and carriage were admirable, and 
well shown by the light-blue habit laced richly and em- 
broidered with silver. A small round hat with a cluster of 
white ostrich feathers was placed among the slightly frizzed 
and powdered masses of mouse-colored hair, surmounting 
a long ivory neck, whose graceful turn, the theme of many 
a sonnet, was not concealed by the masculine collar of the 
habit. The exquisite oval contour of the cheek, the deli- 
cate eary and Grecian profile were as j^erfect in molding as 
when she had been Sir Jovian ^s bride, and so were the por- 
celain blue of the eyes, the penciled arches of eyebrow, and 
the curve of the lips, while even her complexion retained its 
smooth texture, and tints of the lily and rose. Often as 
Aurelia had heard of her beauty, its sj)lendor dazzled and 
astonished her, even in this traveling-dress. 

Archer, who was about a year older than his sisters, was 
more like Aiiioret than the other two, with azure eyes, 
golden curls, and a ijlump rosy face, full of fun and mis- 
chief. Tired of the confinement of the coach, he was rush- 
ing round the house with Ambret, opening the doors and 
looking into the rooms. The other little sisters remained 
beside Aurelia till their mother said, pointing to Fay: 
“ That child seems to mean to eat me with her eyes. Let 
all the children be with Nurse Dove, Mrs. Aylward. Miss 
Delavie will do me the pleasure of supping with me at 
seven. Present my compliments to Mr. Belamour, and let 
him know that 1 will be with him at eight o'clock on par- 
ticular business. " Then turning to the two children, she 
asked their names, and was answered by each distmctly, 
with the orthodox ‘‘ madamo " at the end. 


LOVE AND LIFE. 107 

“ You are improved, little ones/' she said. “ Did Cousin 
Aurelia teach you?" 

‘‘ And Mammy Eolfe/' said constant Fay. 

“ She must teach you next not to stare/' said Lady 
Belamour. ‘‘ I intend to take one to be a companion to 
niy boy, in the coimtiy. When I saw them before, they 
were rustic little monsters; but they are less rmpresentable 
now. Call your sister, children. " And as the two left the 
room, she continued : “ W hich do you recommend, cousin ?' ' 

Fidelia is the most reasonable, madame," said Aurelia. 

But not the prettiest, I trust. She is too like her fa- 
ther, with those dark brows, and her eyes have a look deep 
enough to frighten one. They will frighten away the men, 
if she do not grow out of it." 

Here the door burst open, and, without any preliminary 
bow. Master Archer flew in, crying out “ Mamma, mam- 
ma^, we miist stay here. The galleries are so long, and it 
is such a place for whoop-hide!" 

His sisters were following his bad example, and rushing 
in with equal want of ceremony, but though their mother 
held the boy unchecked on her knee, Aurelia saw how she 
could frown. ‘‘ You forget yourselves," she said. 

Amoret looked ready to cry, but at a sign from their 
young instructress, they backed and courtesied, and their 
mother reviewed them ; Letitia was the most like the Dela- 
vies, but also the smallest, while Amoret was on the largest 
scale and would pair best with her brother, who besides 
loudly proclaimed his preference for her, and she was there- 
fore elected to the honor of being taken home. Aurelia 
was requested as a favor to bid the children's woman have 
the child's clothes ready by ten o'clock on the morrow, and 
my lady then repaired to her own room. 

The httle wardrobe could only be prepared by much as- 
sistance from Aurelia herself, and she could attend to noth- 
mg else; while the children were all devoted to Archer, 
and she only heard their voices in the distance, till — as she 
was dressing for her tete-a-tete supper — Fay came to her 
crying, “ Archer was a naughty boy — he said wicked words 
— he called her ugly, and had cuffed and pinched her!" • 

Poor child! she was tired out and disappointed, and 
Aurelia could only comfort her by hearing her little prayers, 
undressing her, and giving her the highly esteemed treat of 
sleeping in Cousin Aura's bed; while the others were stay- 


108 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


ing up as long as it pleased Master Archer. This actually 
was the cause of my lady being kept waiting, and an 
apology was needful. “ Fidelia was tired out, and was 
crying. 

“ A peevish child! I am glad I did not choose her. 

‘‘ She is usually very good, madame,^^ said Aurelia, 
eagerly. 

Is she your favorite 

‘‘ I try not to make favorites, madame.^^ 


“ Ah! there spoke the true manor-house tone,^^ said 
her ladyship, rather mockingly. ‘‘ May be, she will be a 
wit, for she will never be a beauty, but the other little one 
will come on in due time after Amoret.^^ 

“ Your ladyship will find Amoret a dear, good, affec- 
tionate child, said Aurelia. “ Only — 

“ Eeserve that for nurse, so please you, my good girl. 
It is enough for me to see the brats on tlieir good manners 
now and then. You have had other recreations — shall I 
call them, or cares? I never supposed, when I sent you 
here to attend on the children, that the hermit of Bowstead 
would summon you! 1 assure you it is an extraordinary 
honor. " 


‘‘ I so esteem it, madame,^^ said Aurelia, blushing. 

“ More honor than pleasure, eh?^^ 

“ A great pleasure, madame. 

“ Say you so?^^ and the glittering blue eyes were keenly 
scanning the modest face. “ I should have thought a 
young maid hke you would have had the dismals at the 
mere notion of going near his dark chamber. 1 promise 
you it gives me the megrim to look forward to it. 

“ 1 was affrighted at first, madame,^^ said Aurelia; ‘‘ but 
Mr. Belamour is so good and kind to me that I exceedingly 
enjoy the hours I spend with him. 

‘‘ La, child, you speak with warmth! We shall have you 
enamored of a voice like the youth they make sonnets about 
— what^s his name?^^ 


“ Narcissus, madame,'^ said Aureha, put out of counte- 
nance by the banter. 

“ Oh, you are learned. Is Mr. Belamour your tutor, 
pray? And — oh, fy! I have seen that ring before !^^ 

“He gave it to me yesterday, faltered Aurelia, “in 
case you should intend to take me away, and I should not 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


109 


see him again. I hope I was not wrong in accepting it, 
madame.^^ 

‘‘ Wrong, little fool, assuredly not,^^ said my lady, 
laughing. “ It is an ensign of victory. Why, child, you 
have made a conquest worthy of — let me see. You, or the 
ivits, could tell me who it was that stormed the very den of 
Cocytus and bore off the spoil 

Aurelia liked the tone too little to supply the names; yet 
she felt flattered; but she said quietly, ‘‘ I am happy to 
have been the means of cheering him.'’^ 

The grave artlessness of the manner acted as a kind of 
check, and Lady Belamour said in a different tone, ‘‘ Seri- 
ously, child, the family are ti uly obliged for your share in 
rousing the poor creature from his melancholy. My good 
man made the attempt, but all in vain. What do you do 
to divert him?" 

In inquiries of this kind the supper hour passed, and 
Lady Belamour was then to keep her appointment with her 
brother-in-law. She showed so much alarm and dread 
that Aurelia could not but utter assurances and encourage- 
ments, which again awoke that arch manner, partly ban- 
tering, partly flattering, which exercised a sort of pleasant 
peiqflexing fascination on the simple girl. 

After being dismissed, Aurelia went in search of Mrs. 
Dove, whom she found with Molly, taking stock of Am- 
oret^s little wardrobe. The good woman rose joyfully. 

Oh, my dear missie! I am right thankful to see you 
looking so purely. I doiiT know how I could have held up 
my head to Miss Delavie if I had not seen you!" 

Ah! you will see my sister and all of them," cried 
Aurelia, a sudden rush of homesickness bringing tears to 
her eyes, in oblivion alike of her recluse and her pupils. 
“ Oh! if I were but going with you! But what folly am I 
talking! You must not let them think I am not hap2'>y, 
for indeed I am. Will you kindly come to my room, dear 
nurse, and I will give you a packet for them?" 

Mrs. Dove willingly availed herself of the opportunity 
of explaining how guiltless she had been of the sudden sep- 
aration at Knightsbride four months back. She had been 
in such haste to ride after and overtake the coach, that she 
liad even made Dove swear at her for wanting to give the 
horses no time to rest, and she had ridden off on her own 
particular pillion long before the rest. She had been sur- 


110 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


prised that she never succeeded in catching up the car- 
riage, but never suspected the truth till she had dismount- 
ed in Hanover Square and asked whether “ Miss ^ Mvere 
" ything about Miss Delavie, 



woman^s alarm was great 


until she had had an interview with her ladyship, when she 
was told not to concern herself about the young lady, who 
was safely bestowed in the country with the Misses Way- 
land. “ But that it was here, if you^ll believe me, missie, 
I was as innocent as the babe unborn, and so w’as his 
honor. Sir Amyas. Indeed, my lady gave him to under- 
stand that she had put you to boarding-school with his little 
sisters.-’^ 

Oh! nurse, that is impossible 

“ Lawk-a-day, missie, there^’s nothing my lady wouldn^t 
say to put him off the scent. Bless you, ^tis not for us serv- 
ants to talk, or I could tell you tales! But there, mum^s 
the word, as my Hove says, or he wouldn^t ha^ sat on his 
box these twenty year!^^ 

My lady is very kind to me,^^ said Aurelia, with a lit- 
tle assumption of her father^s repressive manner. 

“ I^m right glad to hear it. Miss Aureely. A sweet lady 
she can be when she is in the mood, though nothing like 
so sweet as his honor. •’Tis ingrain with him down to the 
bone, as I may say — and I should know, having had him 
from the day he was weaned. To see him come up to the 
nussery, and toss about his little brother, would do your 
very heart good; and then he sits him down, without a bit 
of pride, and will have me tell him all about our journey 
up to Lunnon, and the fair, and the play and all; and the 
same with Dove in the stables. He would have the wdiole 
story, and how he was parted at Knightsbridge, I never so 
much as guessing where you was — ^you that your sister had 
given into my care! At last, one day when I was sitting a 
darning of stockings in the window at the back, where I 
can see out over to the green fields, up his honor comes, 
and says he, with his finger to his lips, ‘ Set your heart at 
rest, nurse, Fve found her!^ Then he told me how he 
went down to see his old uncle. Mr. Wayland had been 
urging him on one side that 'twas no more than his duty; 
and her ladyship, on the other, would have it that Mr. 
Belamour was right down melancholy mad, and would go 
into a raving fit if his nevvy did but go near the place. 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


Ill 


‘‘ She did not say that!’^ 

Oh yes, she did, miss. I’ll take my oath of it, for I was 
in the coach with Master Wayland on my knee, when she 
was telling a lady how hard it was they could have no use 
of Bowstead, because of Sir Jovian’s brother being there, 
who had got the black melancholics, and could not be re- 
moved. The lady says how good she was to suffer it, and 
she answers, that there was no being harsh with poor Sir 
Jovian’s brother, though he had a strange spleen at her 
and her son, and always grew worse when they did but go 
near the house; but that some measures must be taken 
when her son came of age or was married.” 

‘‘ But he came at last!” 

He said he wanted to see for himself, and thought he 
'Could at least find out from the servants whether his uncle 
was in the state they reported. And there he found his 
three little sisters, and that you was their tutoress, and they 
couldn’t say enough about you, nor the poor gentleman 
neither. ‘ I didn’t see her, nurse,’ says he, ‘ but there’s a 
bit of her own sweet fingers’ work. ’ And sure enough, I 
knew it, for it was a knot of the very ribbon you had in 
your hair the day I came to talk to your sister about the 
journey.” 

That was what Amy told me she gave him.” 

Nothing loath would he be to take it, miss! Though 
says he, ‘ Don’t you let my mother know I have tracked 
her, nurse, ’ says he. ‘ It is plain enough why she gives 
out that I am not to go near my uncle, and if she guessed 
where I had been, she would have some of her fancies.’ 

‘ Now your honor, my dear,’ says I, ^ you’ll excuse your 
old nurse, but her sister put her in my charge, and though 
I bless Heaven that you are no young rake, yet you will be 
bringing trouble untold on her and hers if you go down 
there a-courting of her unbeknownst.’ ‘ No danger of 
that, nurse,’ says he; ‘ why there’s a she-dragon down 
there ’ (meaning Mrs. Aylward) ‘ that was ready to drive me 
out of my own house when I did but speak of waiting to 
see her.’ ” 

No, I am glad he will not come again. Yet it makes 
his uncle happy to see him. I will keep out of the way if 
he does. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Eight too, miss. A young lady never loses by discre- 
tion.” 


112 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


‘‘ Oh, do not speak in— in that way/" said Aurelia, 
blushing at the implication. Besides, he is going home 
with my lady to dear Carminster."" 

No, no, he remains with his regiment in town, unless 
he rides down later when he can have his leave of absence, 
and my lady is at the bath. He will hot if he can help it, 
for he is dead set against the young lady they want to 
marry him to, and she is to be there. What! you have 
not heard? It is my Lady Arabella, sister to that there 
colonel as is more about our house than I could wish. She 
is not by the same mother as him and my Lord Aresfield. 
Her father married a great heiress for his second wife, 
whose father had made a great fortune by victualing the 
army in the war time. Not that this dowager countess, as 
they call her, is a bit like the real quality, so that it is, a 
marvel how my lady can put up with her; only money- 
bags will make anything go down, more"s the pity, and 
my lady is pressed, you see, with her losses at play. It 
was about this match that Sir Amyas was sent down to 
Battlefield, the countesses place in Monmouthshire, when he 
came to Carminster last summer, and his body-servant, 
Mr. Grey, that has been about him from a child, told me 
all about it. This Lady Belle, as they call her, is only 
about fourteen, and such a spoiled little vixen, that they 
say nobody has been able to teach her so much as to read, 
for her mother, the dowager, never would have her crossed 
in anything, and now she has got too headstrong for any of 
"em. Mr. Grey said the evening they arrived, while his 
honor was dressing for supper, they heard the most horrid 
screams, and thought some one must be killed at least. 
Sir Amyas was for running out, but at the door they met 
a wench who only said, ‘Bless you! that"s naught. It"s 
only my young lady in her tantrums!" So in the servants" 
hall. Grey heard it was all because her mamma wouldn"t 
let her put on two suits of pearls and di"monds both 
together. She lies on her back, and rolls and kicks till she 
gets her own way; and by what the servants say, the dow- 
ager herself ain"t much better to her servants. Her 
woman had got a black eye she had given her with her fan. 
She has never had no breeding, you see, and there are 
uglier stories about her than I like to tell you. Miss 
Aureely; and as to the young lady, Sir Amyas saw her with 
his own eyes slap the lackey’s face for bringing her brow’a 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


113 


sugar instead of white. She is a little dwarfish thing that 
puts her finger in her mouth and sulks when she is not fly- 
ing out into a rage; but Colonel Mar is going to have her 
up to a boarding-school to mend her manners, and he and 
my lady are as much bent on marrying his honor to her as 
if she was a perfect angel. 

“ They never can!^^ 

“ Well, miss, they do most things they have a mind to; 
and they mean to do this before my lady^s husband comes 
home. 

But Mr. Belamour is his nephew^s guardian. 

That^s what my lady is come down here for. Either 
she will get his consent out of him, or she will make the 
poor gentleman out to be non compos, and do without 
him.^'’ 

“ Oh, nurse, he is the wisest, cleverest gentleman I ever 
saw, except my papa.^^ 

‘‘ Do you say so, miss? But you are young, you see. A 
gentleman to shut himself up in the dark like that must 
needs be astray in his wits. 

‘‘ That is because of his eyes, and his wound. Nobody 
could talk to him and doubt his reason. ” 

Well, missie, I hope you are in the right; but what my 
lady^s interest is, that she is apt to carry out, one way or 
toother! Bless me, if that be not Master Archer scream- 
ing. I thought he was fast off to sleep. There never was 
such a child for hating the dark. Yes, yes, I’m coming, 
my dearie! Lackadaisy, if his mamma heard!’’ 


CHAPTER XVI. 

AUGUKIES. 

Venus, thy eternal sway 
All the race of man obey. 

Euripides (Anstice.) 

Aukelia sat up late to finish her dispatches to the be- 
loved ones at home, and pack the little works she had been 
able to do for each, though my lady’s embroidery took, up 
most of her sedentary hours. Mrs. Dove undertook ^he 
care of the parcel, and handed over to Aurelia another — a 
guinea’s worth of presents to the little sisters from Sir 
Amyas, which the prudent nurse advised her to withhold 


114 


LOYE AND LIFE, 


till after Master Archer was gone, as he would certainly 
break everything to pieces. He was up betimes, careering 
about the garden with all his sisters after him, imperiously 
ordering them about, but nevertheless bewitching them 
all, so that Amoretta was in ecstasies at her -own prefer- 
ment, scarcely realizing that it would divide her from the 
others; while Letty made sure that she should soon follow, 
and Fidelia gravely said, I shall always know you are 
loving me still, Amy, as Nurse Rolfe does. 

Lady Belamour breakfasted in her own room at about 
ten o^clock. Her woman, Mrs. Loveday, a small trim 
active person, with the worn and sharpened remains of 
considerable prettiness of the miniature brunette style, was 
sent to summon Miss Delavie to her aj^artment and insiiect 
the embroidery she had been desired to execute for my 
lady. Three or four bouquets had been finished, and the 
maid went into such rajitures over them as somewhat to 
disgust their worker, who knew that they were not half so 
well done as they would have been under Betty ^s direction. 
However, Mrs. Loveday bore the frame to her ladyship 
room, following Aurelia, who was there received with the 
same stately caressing manner as before. 

Good-morning, child. Your roses bloom well in the 
forenoon! Pity they should be wasted in darkness. Not 
but that you are duly appreciated there. Ah! I can deepen 
them by what our unhappy recluse said of you. I shall 
make glad hearts at Carminster by his good opinion, and 
who knows what preferment may come of it — eh? What 
is that, Loveday? 

“ It is the work your ladyship wished me to execute,’^ 
said Aurelia, 

Handsome — ^yes; but is that all? I thought the nota- 
ble Mistress Betty brought you up after her own sort?^^ 

“ I am sorry, madame, but 1 could not do it quickly at 
first without my sister'^s advice, and I have not very much 
time between my care of the children and j^reparing repe- 
titions for Mr. Belamour. 

Ha! ha! I understand. There are greater attractions! 
Go on, child. Mayhap it may be your own wedding-gown 
you are working at, if you finish it in time! Heavens! 
what great wondering eyes the child has! All in good 
time, my dear. I must talk to your father.-’^ 

It was so much the custom to talk to young maidens 


LOVE AXD LIFE. 


115 


about their marriage that this did not greatly startle 
Aurelia, and Lady Selamour continued: “ There, child, 
you have done your duty well by those little plagues of 
mine, and it is Mr. Wayland^s desire to make you a recom- 
pense. You may need it in any change of circumstances. 

So saying, she placed in Aurelia ^s hand five guineas, the 
largest sum that the girl had ever owned; and as visions 
arose of Christmas-gifts to be bestowed, the thanks were so 
warm, the courtesy so expressively gr^eful, the smile so 
bright, the soft eyes so sparkling, that the great lady was 
touched at the sight of such simple-hearted joy, and said, 
“ There, there, child, that will do. I could envy one 
whom a little makes so happy. Yow you will be able to 
make yourself fine when my son brings home his bride; or 
— who knows— -you may be a bride yourself first 

That sounds, thought Aurelia, as if Mr. Belamour had 
made her relinquish the plan of that cruel marriage, for I 
am sure I have not yet seen the man I am to marry. 

And with a lighter heart the young tutoress stood be- 
tween Fay and Letty on the steps to see the departure, her 
cheeks still feeling Amorek’s last fond kisses, and a swell- 
ing in her throat bringing tears to her eyes at the thought 
how soon that carriage would be at Carminster. Yet there 
were sweet chains in the little hands that held her gown, 
and in the thought of the lonely old man who depended on 
her for enlivenment. 

The day was long, for Amoret was missed ; and the two 
children were unusually fretful and quarrelsome without 
her, disputing over the new toys which Brother Amy as "s 
guinea had furnished 'in demoralizing profusion. It was 
strange to see the difference made by the loss of the child 
who would give up an3dhing rather than meet a look of 
vexation, and would coax the others into immediate good- 
humor. There was reaction, too, after the excitement, for 
which the inexperienced Aurelia did not allow. At the 
twentieth bickering as to which doll should ride on the 
spotted hobby-horse, the face of Letty ^s painted wooden 
baby received a scar, and Fay's lost a leg, whereupon 
Aurelia's endurance entirely gave way, and she pronounced 
them both naughty children, and sent them to bed before 
supper. 

Then her heart smote her for unkindness, and she sat in 
the firelight listless and sad, though she hardly knew why. 


116 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


longing to go ujo and pet and conifoi-t her charges, but 
withheld by the remembrance of Betty assurances that 
leniency, in a like case, wpuld be the ruin of Eugene. 

At last Jumbo came to summon her, and hastily recall- 
ing a cheerful air, she entered the room with ‘‘ Good-even- 
ing, sir; you see I am still here to trouble you.^^ 

I continue to profit by my gentle friend^s banishment. 
Tell me, was my lady in a gracious mood?^^ 

“ Oh, sir, how beautiful she is, and how kind! I know 
now why my father was so devoted to her, and no one can 
ever gainsay her!” 

“ The enchantress knows how to cast her spells. She 
was then friendly 

“ She gave me five guineas !^^ said Aurelia, exultingly. 
She said Mr. Wayland wished to recompense me.'’^ 

“ Did he so? If it came from him I should have expect- 
ed a more liberal sum.'’^ 

‘‘But, oh !^^ in a tone of mfinite surjirise and content, 
“ this is more than I ever thought of. Indeed I never 
dreamed of her giving me anything. Sir, may I write to 
your book-seller, Mr. Tonson, and order a book of Mr. 
James Thomson's ‘ Seasons ^ to give to my sister Harriet, 
who is delighted with the extracts I have copied for her?^^ 

“ Will not that consume a large portion of the five 
guineas, my generous friend? 

“ I have enough left. There is a new gown which I. have 
never worn, which will serve for the new clothes my lady 
spoke of to receive her son^s bride. 

“ She entered on that subject then?” 

“ Only for a moment as she took leave. Oh, sir, is it 
possible that she can know all about this young lady?^ ^ 

“ What have you heard of her?^^ 

“ Sir, they say she is a dreadful little vixen. 

“ Who say? Is she known at Carminster?^^ 

“ Eo, sir,” said Aurelia, disconcerted. “It was from 
nurse Dove that I heard what Sir Amyas’ man said when 
he came back from Battlefield. I know my sister would 
chide me for listening to servants. ” 

“ Nevertheless I should be glad to hear. Was the serv- 
ant old Grey? Then he is to be depended on. What did 
he say?’^ 

Aurelia needed little iiersuasion to tell all that she had 
heard from Mrs. Dove, and he answered, “ Thank you, my 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


117 


child, it tallies precisely with what the poor boy himself 
told me. 

Then he has told his mother? Will she not believe 
him?^^ 

“ It does not suit her to do so, and it is easy to say the 
girl will be altered by going to a good school. In fact, 
there are many reasons more powerful with her than the 
virtue and happiness of her son,^^ he added bitterly. 

There’s the connection, forsooth. As if Lady Aresfield 
w'ere fit to bring up an honest man’s wife; and tliere’s the 
fortune to fill up the void she has made in the Delavie es- 
tates. ” 

‘‘ Can no one hinder it, sir? Can not you?” 

As a last resource the poor youth came hither to see 
whether the guardian whose wardship has hitherto been a 
dead letter, were indeed so utterly obdurate and helpless as 
had been represented. ” 

And you have the power?” 

‘‘ So far as his father’s will and the injunctions of his 
final letter to me can give it, I have full power. My con- 
sent is necessaiy to his marriage while still a minor, and I 
have told my lady I will never give it to his w^edding a 
Mar.” 

‘‘ I was sure of it; and it is not true that they will be 
able to do without it?” 

“ Without it! Have you heard any more? You pause. 
I see — she wishes to declare me of unsound mind. Is that 
what you mean?” 

“So nurse Dove said, sir,” faltered Aurelia; “but it 
seemed too wicked, too monstrous, to be possible. ” 

“ I understand,” he said. “ I thought there was an im- 
jfiied threat in my sweet sister-in-law’s soft voice when she 
siioke of my determined misanthropy. Well, I think we 
can guard against that expedient. After all, it is only till 
my nephew comes of age, or till his stepfather returns, 
that we must keep the enchantress at bay. Then the poor 
lad will be safe, providing always that she and her colonel 
have not made a rake of him by that time. Alas, what a 
wTetch am I not to be able to do more for him! Child, 
you have seen him?” 

“ I danced with him, sir, but I was too much terrified to 
look in his face. And I saw his cocked hat over the thorn 
hedge. ” 


118 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


“Fancy free/^ muttered Mr. Belamour. “Fair exile 
for a cocked hat and diamond shoe-buckles! You would 
not recognize him again, nor his voice 

“ No, sir. He scarcely spoke, and I was attending to 
my steps. 

Mr. Belamour laughed, and then asked Aurelia for the 
passage in the “ Iliad where Venus carries off Paris in 
cloud. He thanked her somewhat absently, and then said, 

“ l)r. Godfrey said something of coming hither before 
he goes to his living in Dorsetshire. May I ask of you the 
favor of writing and begging him to fix a day not far off, 
mentioning likewise that my sister-in-law has been here.'’^ 

To this invitation Dr. Godfrey replied that he would 
deviate from the slow progress of his family coach, and ride 
to Bowstead, spending two nights there the next week; and 
to Aurelia^s greater amazement, she was next requested to 
write a billet to the Mistresses Treforth in Mr. Belamour 
name, asking them to bestow their company on him for the 
second evening of Dr. Godfrey's visit. 

“ You, my kind friend, will do the honors, he said, 
“ and we will ask Mrs. Aylward to provide the entertain- 
ment."^ 

“ They will be quite propitiated by being asked to meet 
Dr. Godfrey,"" said Aurelia. “ Shall you admit them, 
sir?"" 

“ Certainly. You do not seem to find them very engag- 
ing company, but they can scarce be worse than I should 
find in such an asylum as my charming sister-in-law seems 
to have in preparation for me."" 

“Oh! I wish I had said nothing about that. It is too 
shocking!"" 

“ Forewarned, forearmed, as the proverb says. Do you 
not see, my amiable friend, that we are providing a body 
of witnesses to the sanity of the recluse, even though he 
may ‘ in dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell "?"" 

The visit took place; Dr. Godfrey greeted Miss Delavie 
as an old friend, and the next day pronounced Mr. Bela- 
mour to be so wonderfully invigorated and animated, that 
he thought my lady"s malignant plan was really likely to 
jDrove the best possible stimulus and cure. 

Then the canon gratified the two old ladies by a morn- 
ing call, dined with Aurelia and her pupils, who behaved 
very well, and with whom he afterward played for a whole 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


119 


hour so kindly that they placed him second in esteem to 
their big and beautiful brother. Mrs. Phoebe and Mrs. 
Delia came dressed in the faded splendors of the Louis 
XIV. period, just at twilight, and were regaled with coffee 
and pound-cake. They were a good deal subdued; though, 
as Aurelia listened to the conversation, it was jdain enough 
what Mr. Belamour meant when he said that his cousin 
Delia was something of the coquette.. 

Still they asked with evident awe if it were true that 
their unfortunate cousin really intended to admit them, 
and they evidently became more and more nervous while 
waiting for J umbo^s summons. Dr. Godfrey gave his arm 
to Mrs. Phoebe, and Mrs. Delia gripped hold of Aurelia ^s, 
trembling all over, declaring she felt ready to swoon, and 
marveling how Miss Delavie could ever have ventured, all 
alone too! 

After all, things had been made much less formidable 
than at Aurelia^s first introduction. The sitting-room was 
arranged as it was when Mr. Greaves read prayers, with a 
very faint light from a shrouded lamp behind the window 
curtain. To new-comers it seemed pitchy darkness, but 
to Aurelia and Dr. Godfrey it was a welcome change, al- 
lowing them at least to perceive the forms of one another, 
and of the furniture. From a blacker gulf, being the 
door-way to the inner room, came Mr. Belamour^s courte- 
ous voice of greeting to his kinswomen, who were led up by 
their respective guides to take his hand; after which he 
begged them to excuse the darkness, since the least light 
W'as painful to him still. If they would be seated he would 
remain where he was, and enjoy the society he was again 
beginning to be able to appreciate. He was, in fact, sitting 
within his own room, with eyes covered from even the 
feeble glimmer in the outer room. 

It was some minutes before they recovered their self-2)os- 
session, but Dr. Godfrey and Mr. Belamour began the con- 
versation, and they gradually joined in. It was chiefly full 
of remmiscences of the lively days when Dr. Godfrey had 
been a young Cantab visiting his two friends at Bowstead, 
and Phoebe and Delia were the belles of the village. Au- 
relia scarcely opened her lips, but she was astonished to find 
how different the two sisters could be from the censorious, 
contem2:)tuous beings they had seemed to her. The con- 
versation lasted till supiier-time, and Mr. Belamour, as they 


120 


LOVE AlTD LIFE. 


took their leave, made them promise to come and see him 
again. Then they were conducted back to the supper- 
room, Mrs. Phoebe mysteriously asking ‘‘ Is he always like 
this?’"’ 

The experiment had been a great success, and Aurelia 
completed it by asking Mrs. Phoebe to take the head of the 
supper-table. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE VICTIM DEMAKDED. 

And if thou sparest now to do this thing, 

I ^ill destroy thee and thy land also. 

Morris. 

Well, sir, have you seen my lady?^^ 

Not a year older than when I saw her last,^^ returned 
Major Delavie, who had just dismounted from his trusty 
pony at his garden gate, and accepted Betty ^s arm; ‘‘ and 
Avhat think you?^^ he added, pausing that Corporal Palmer 
might hear his news. She has been at Bowstead, and 
brings fresh tidings of our Aura. The darling is as. fair 
and sprightly as a May morning, and beloved by all who 
come near her — ^bless her!^-’ 

Palmer echoed a fervent Amen!’^ and Betty asked, Is 
this my lady^s report 

‘‘ Suspicious Betty! you will soon be satisfied, said the 
major in high glee. ‘‘ Did not Dove meet me at the front 
door, and Mrs. Dove waylay me in the hall to tell me that 
the child looked blooming and joyous, and in favor Avith 
all, gentle and simple? Come here, Eugene, ay, and Har- 
riet and Arden too. Let us hear what my little maid says 
for herself. For look here!^^ and he held aloft Aurelia^s 
packet, at sight of which Eugene capered high, and all fol- 
lowed into the parlor. 

Mr. Arden was constantly about the house. There was 
no doubt that he would soon be j)i’eferred to a chapter liv- 
ing in Buckinghamshire, and he had thus been emboldened 
to speak out his Avishes. It Avould have been quite beneath 
the dignity of a young lady of Miss Harrietts sensibility to 
have consented, and she Avas in the full SAving of her game 
at coyness and reluctance, daily voAving that nothing should 
induce her to resign her liberty, and that she should be 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


121 


frightened out of her life by Mr. Arden's experiments; 
V’hile her father had cordially received the minor .canon's 
proposals, and already treated him as one of the family. 
Simjiering had been such a fattening process that Harriet 
was beginning to resume more of her good looks than had 
ever been brought back by May dew. 

‘‘ Open the letter, Betty. Thanks, Arden," as the minor 
canon began to pull off his boots, “ only take care of my 
knee. My lady has brought down her little boy, and one 
of Aurelia's pupils; I declare they are a perfect pair of 
loves. What are you fumbling at, Betty?" 

“ The seal, sir, it is a pity to break it," said Betty, pro- 
ducing her scissors from one of her capacious pockets. It 
is an antique, is it not, Mr. Arden?" 

A very beautiful gem, a sleeping Cupid," he answered. 

“ How could the child have obtained it?" said Harriet. 

I can tell you," said the major. ‘‘ From old Bela- 
mour. My lady was laughing about it. The little puss 
has revived the embers of gallantry in our poor recluse. 
Says she, ‘ He has actually presented her with a ring, nay, 
a ring bearing Love himself. ' " 

Somehow the speech, even at second-hand, jarred ujion 
Betty, but her father was delighted with my lady's descrip- 
tion of his favorite, and the letters were full of content- 
ment. When the two sisters, arrayed in their stiffest silks, 
went up to pay their respects to my lady the 'next after- 
noon, their reception was equally warm. My lady was 
more caressing to her old acquaintance, Betty, than that 
discreet personage quite liked, while she complimented and 
congratulated Harriet on her lover, laughing at her bash- 
ful disclaimers in such a charmingly teasing fashion as 
quite to win the damsel's heart, and convince her that all 
censure of Lady Belamour was vile slander. The children 
we're sent for, and Amoret was called on to show how 
Cousin Aurelia had taught her to dance, sing, and recite. 
The tiny minuet performed by her and Archer was an ex- 
ceedingly pretty exhibition as far as it went, but the boy 
had no patience to conclude, and jumped off into an ex- 
temporary jjas setil. which was still prettier, and as Amoret 
was sole exhibitor of the repetition of Gay's Hare and 
Many Friends, " he became turbulent after the first four 
lines, and put a stop to the whole. 

Then came in a tall, large, handsome, dashing-looking 


122 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


mail;, with the air of a hecm stibreur^^ whom Lady Bela- 
mour presented to her cousins as “ Colonel Mai^ my son^s 
commandant, you know, wLo has been kind enough to 
take Oarminster on his way, so as to escort me to the bath, 
I am such a sad cow^aid about highwaymen. And we are 
to meet dear Lady Aresfield there to talk over a little mat- 
ter of business.-’^ 

Colonel Mar made a magnificent bow, carelessly, not to 
say impertinently, scanned the two ladies, and having evi- 
dently decided that they had neither beauty nor fashion to 
attract him, caught up little Amy in his arms, and began 
to play a half teasing, half-caressing game with the chil- 
dren. Betty thought it high time to be gone, and as she 
took leave, was requested to send up her little brother to 
play with his cousins. This did not prove a success, for 
Eugene constituted himself champion to Amoret, of whom 
Archer was very jealous, though she was his devoted and 
submissive slave. Master Delavie^’s rustic ways were in 
consequence pronounced to be too rude and rough for the 
dainty little town-bred boy, the fine ladies^ pet. 

The major dined at the Great House, but came home so 
much dismayed and disgusted that he could hardly men- 
tion even to Betty what he had seen and heard. He only 
groaned out at intervals, This is what the service is com- 
ing to! That fop to be that poor lad^s commanding offi- 
cer! That rake to be always hovering about my cousin V’ 

Others spoke out more plainly. Stories were afloat of 
orgies ending in the gallant colonel being under the supjDer- 
table, a thing only too common, but not iii the house of a 
solitary lady who had only lately quitted the carousers. 
Half the dependents on the estate were complaining of the 
guest^s swaggering, overbearing treatment of themselves, or 
of his insolence to their wives or daughters; and Betty lived 
in a dreadful unnamed terror lest he should offer some im- 
pertinence to her father which the veteran^ s honor might 
not brook. However, there was something in the old sol- 
dier's dignity and long service that kept the arrogance of 
the younger man in check, and repressed all bluster toward 
him. 

Demands for money were, as usual, made, but the set- 
tlement of accounts was deferred till the arrival of Har- 
grave, the family man of business, who came by coach to 
Bath, and then rode across to Oarminster. The major 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


123 


dined that day at the Great House, and came home early, 
with something so strange and startled about his looks that 
Hetty feared that her worst misgivings were realized. It 
was a relief to hear him say, “ Come hither, Betty, I want 
a word with you.'’^ At least it was no duel! 

What is it, dear sir?^^ she asked, as she shut his study 
door. Is it come at last? Must we quit this 23lace?^^ 

No, I could bear that better, but what do you think 
she asks of me now? to give my little Aurelia, my beauti- 
ful darling, to that poor madman in the dark!^^ 

“ Oh!^^ exclaimed Betty, in a strange tone of discovery. 
‘‘ May I inquire what you said?'’^ 

‘‘ I said — I scarce know what I said. I declared it mon- 
strous, and not to be thought of for a moment; and then 
she went on in her fashion that would wile a bird off a 
hush, declaring that no doubt the proposal was a shock, 
hut if I would turn the matter over, I should see it was for 
the dear child’s advantage. Belamour dotes on her, and 
after being an old man’s darling for a few years, she may 
he free in her prime, with an honorable name and fortune. ” 

I dare say. As if one could not see through the entire 
design. My My would call her sister-in-law to j^revent her 
being daughter-in-law!” 

“ That fancy has had no ailment, and must long ago 
have died out.” 

Listen to Nurse Dove on that matter.” 

Women love to foster notions of that sort.” 

“ Nay, sir, you believe, as I do, that the poor cliild was 
conveyed to Bowstead in order that the youth might lose 
sight of her, and since he proves refractory to the match in- 
tended for him, this further device is found for destroying 
any possible hope on his part. ” 

‘‘I can not say what may actuate my lady, but if Amyas 
Belamour be the man I knew, and as the child’s own let- 
ters t^aint him, he is not like to lend himself to any such 
arrangement. ” 

‘‘ Comes the offer from him, or is it only a scheme of my 
lady’s?” 

He never writes more than a signature, but Hargrave 
is emjDOwered to make j^roposals to me, very handsome 
2 )roposals too, were not the bare idea intolerable.” 

“Aurelia is not aware of it, I am sure,” said Betty, to 
whom Hargrave had brought another packet of cheerful 


124 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


innocent dispatches, of which, as usual, the unseen friend 
in the dark was the hero. 

“ Certainly not, and I hope she never may be. I de- 
clared the notion was not to be entertained for a moment; 
but Urania never, in her life, would take no for an answer, 
and she talked me nearly out of my senses, then bade me 
go home, think it over, and discuss it with my excellent 
and prudent daughter; as if all the thinking and talking in 
the world could make it anything but more intolerable.-’^ 

His prudent daughter understood in the adjective applied 
to her a hint which the wily lady would not have dared to 
make direct to the high-spirited old soldier, namely, that 
the continuance of his livelihood might depend on his 
consent. Betty knew likewise enough of the terrible world 
of the early eighteenth century to be aware that even 
such wedlock as this was not the w^orst to which a w^oman 
like Lady Belamour might compel the poor girl, who was 
entirely in her power, and out of reach of all protection; 
unless — An idea broke in on her. ‘‘If we could but go 
to Bowstead, sir,^-’ she said, “ then we could judge whether 
the notion be as repugnant to Aurelia as it is to us, and 
whether Mr. Belamour be truly rational and fit to be 
trusted with her.-’-’ 

“ I tell you, Betty, it is a mere absurdity to tliink of it. 
I believe the child is fond of, and grateful to, the poor man, 
but if she supposed she loved him, it would be mere play- 
ing on her ignorance. 

“ Then we could take her safely home and bear the con- 
sequences together, without leaving her alone exposed to 
any fresh machinations of my lady. -’^ 

“You are right, Betty. You have all your sainted 
mother ^s good sense. I will tell my cousin that this is not 
a matter to be done blindly, and that I withhold my reply 
till I have seen and spoken with her and this most prepos- 
terous of suitors. " 

“ Yes, it is the only way,"” said Betty. “ We can then 
judge ^vhether it be a cruel sacrifice, or whether the child 
have affection and confidence enough in him to be reason- 
ably happy with him. What is his age, father 

“ Let me see. Poor Sir Jovian was much older than 
Urania, but he died at forty years old. His brother was 
some three years his junior. He can not be above forty- 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


125 


six or seven. That is not the objection, but the moody 
melancholy. Think of our guy, sprightly child 

“We will see, sir.^^ 

“We! Mistress Betty? The cost will be severe without, 
you!^^ 

“ Nay, sir, I can not rest without going too; you might 
be taken ill.-’^ 

“You can not trust a couple of old campaigners like 
Palmer and me? What did we do without you?^^ 

“ Got lamed for life,^^ said Betty saucily. “ No, I go 
on a pillion behind Palmer, and my grandfather^s dia- 
mond-ring shall pay expenses. 

“ Sir ArchibakPs ring that he put on two baby fingers 
of vours when he went off to Scotland. 

‘ Better part with that than resign my Aurelia in the 
dark, uncertain whether it be for her good.-’^ 


CHAPTER XVIIL 

THE PROPOSAL. 

Love sweetest lies concealed in night. 

T. Moore, 

The major rode up to the Great House to announce that 
he would only give his answer after having conferred with 
both his daughter and the suitor. 

With tears in her beautiful blue eyes. Lady Belamour 
demanded why her dear cousin Harry could not trust the 
Urania he had known all her life to decide what was for the 
happiness of the sweet child whom she loved like her own. 

She made him actually feel as if it were a cruel and un- 
merited suspicion, but she did not overcome him. “ Ma- 
dame,^'’ he said, “ it would be against my orders, as father 
of a family, to give my child away without doing my poor 
best for her. 

There, in spite of all obstacles suggested and all displeas- 
ure manifested, he stuck fast, until, thoroughly harassed 
and annoyed, he rode home without choosing to wait till a 
shower of sleet and rain was over. Vexation and perplexity 
always overset his health, and the chill, added to them, 
rendered him so ill the next morning that Betty knew there 
was no chance of his leaving his room for the next month or 
six weeks; and she therefore sent a polite and formal note 


126 


LOVE AXD LIFE. 


to the Great House explaining that he could not attend to 
business. 

This brought upon her the honor of a visit from the 
great lady herself. Down came the coach -and-f our, and 
forth from it came Lady Belamour in a magnificent hooi), 
the first seen in those parts, managing it with a grace that 
made her an overwhelming spectacle, in contrast with 
Betty, in her close-fitting dark-gray homespun, plain white 
muslin apron, cap, kerchief, and ruffles, scrupulously neat 
and fresh, but un^orned. The visit was graciously de- 
signed for “ good Cousin Harry,^^ but his daughter was 
obliged, not unwillingly, though quite truly, to declare 
him far too suffering with i^ain and fever to receive the 
honor. 

‘‘ La, you there, then,’^ said the lady, that comes of 
the dear man^s heat of temper. I would have kept him 
till the storm was over, but he was far too much displeased 
with his poor cousin to listen to me. Come, Cousin Betty, 
I know you are in all his counsels. You will bring him to 
hear reason. 

“ The whole affair must wait, madame, till he is able to 
move. 

“ And if this illness be the consequence of one wet ride, 
how can he be in a condition to take the journey?’^ 

You best know, madame, whether a father can be ex- 
pected to bestow his daughter in so strange a manner with- 
out direct communication either with her or with the other 
party. 

I grant you the idea is at first sight startling, but sure- 
ly he might trust to me; and he knows Amyas Belamour, 
poor man, to be the very soul of honor; yes, and with all 
his eccentricity to have made no small impression on our 
fair Aurelia. Depend upon it, my dear Betty, romance 
carries the day; and the damsel is more enamored of the 
mysterious voice in the dark, than she would be of any 
lusty swain in the ordinary light of day.^^ 

“ All that maybe, madame, but she is scarce yet sixteen, 
and it is our duty to be assured of her inclinations and of 
the gentleman^s condition. 

“ You will not trust me, who have watched them both,^^ 
said Lady Belamour, with her most engaging manner. 

Aow look here, my dear, since we are two women to- 


LOVE Al^D LIFE. 


127 


gether, safe out of the hearing of the men, I will be round 
with you. I freely own myself imprudent in sending your 
sister to Bowstead to take charge of my poor little girls, 
but if you had seen the little savages they were, you would 
not wonder that I could not take them home at once, nor 
that I should wish to see them acquire the good manners 
that I remembered in the children of this house; I never 
dreamed of Mr. Belamour heeding the little nursery. He 
has always been an obstinate melancholic limatic, confined 
to his chamber by day, and wandering like a ghost by 
night, refusing all admission. Moreover my good Aylward 
had appeared hitherto a paragon of a duenna for discretion, 
only overstarched in her precision. Little did I expect to 
find my young lady spending all her evenings alone with 
him, and the solitary hermit transformed into a gay and 
gallant bachelor like the Friar of Orders Gray in the song. 
And since matters have gone to such a length, I, as a wom- 
an who has seen more of the world than you have, my dear 
good Betty, think it expedient that the friar and his 
charmer should be made one without loss of time. We 
know her to be innocence itself, and him for a very Sidney 
for honor, but the world — 

“ It is your doing, madame,^^ exclaimed Betty, passion- 
ately, completely overset by the insinuation; “you bid us 
trust you, and then confess that you have exposed my sweet 
sister to be vilely slandered ! Oh, my Aureha, why did I let 
you out of my sight she cried, while hot tears stood in her 
eyes. 

“ I know your warmth, my dear,-’^ said Lady Belamour 
with perfect command of temper; “ I tell you I blame my- 
self for not having recollected that a lovely maiden can 
tame even a savage brute, or that even in the sweet rural 
country walls have ears and trees have tongues. Hot that 
any harm is done so far, nor ever will be; above all if your 
good father do not carry his romantic sentiments so far as 
to be his ruin a second time. Credit me, Betty, they will 
not serve in any world save the imaginary one that crazed 
Don Quixote. What but advantage can the pretty creature 
gain? She is only sixteen, quite untouched by true pas- 
sion. She will obtain a name and fortune, and become an 
old man's idol for a few years, after which she will probably 
be at liberty by the time she is of an age to enjoy life." 

“ He is but five-and-forty!" said Betty. 


128 


LOVE AXD LIFE. 


“ Well, if she arouse him to a second spring, there will 
be few women who will not envy her.^^ 

‘‘ You may color it over, madame,^^ said Betty, drawing 
herself up, ‘‘ but nothing can conceal the fact that you 
confess yourself to have exposed my innocent helpless sister 
to malignant slander; and that you assure me that the only 
course left is to marry the iioor child to a wretched^ mel- 
ancholic who lias never so much as seen her face.’’^ 

‘‘You are outspoken. Miss Delavie, said Lady Bela- 
mour, softly, but with a dangerous glitter in her blue eyes. 

I pardon your heat for your father^'s sake, and because I 
ascribe it to the exalted fantastic notions in which you have 
been bred; but remember that there are bounds to my for- 
bearance, and that an agent in Iris state of health, and with 
his stubborn ideas, only remains on sufferance. 

“ My father has made up his mind to sacrifice anything 
rather than his child, cried Betty. 

My dear girl, I will hear you no more. You are doing 
him no service, said Lady Belamour kindly. ‘‘ You had 
better be convinced that it is a sacrifice, or an unwilling 
one, before you treat me to any more heroics. 

Betty successfully avoided a parting kiss, and remained 
pacing up and down the room to work off her indignation 
before returning to her father. She was quite as angry 
with herself, as with my lady, for having lost her temper, 
and so given her enemy an advantage, more especially as 
when her distress became less agitating, her natural shrewd- 
ness began to guess that the hint about scandal was the 
pure fruit of Lady Belamour^s invention, as an expedient 
for obtaining her consent. Yet the mere breath of such a 
possibility of evil-speaking was horror to her, and she even 
revolved the question of going herself to Bowstead to rescue 
her sister. But even if the journey had been more possible, 
her father was in no condition to be left to Harrietts care, 
and there was nothing to be done excejit to wait till he could 
again attend to the matter, calm herself as best she could, 
so as not to alarm him, and intercej)t all dangerous mes- 
sages. 

Several days had passed, and though the major had not 
left his bed, he had asked whether more had been heard 
from my lady, and discussed the subject with his daughter, 
when a letter arrived in due course of post. It was written 
in a large bold hand, and the signature, across a crease in 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


129 


the paper, was in the irregular characters that the major 
recognized as those of Mr. Belamour: 

“ Dear and honored Sir, — Proposals have been made 
to you on my behalf for the hand of your fair and amiable 
daughter. Miss Aurelia Delavie. I am well aware how 
preposterous and even shocking they may well appear to 
you; yet, let me assure you, on the faith of a man of honor 
that if you will intrust her to me, wretched recluse though 
I be, and will permit her to bear my name, I will answer 
for her happiness and welfare. Situated as I am, I can not 
enter into further explanations; but we are old acquaint- 
ance, though we have not met for many years, and there- 
fore I venture to beg of you to believe me when I say that 
if you will repose confidence in me, and exercise patience, 
I can promise your admirable daughter such preferment as 
she is far from expecting. She has been the blessing of 
my darkened life, but I would never have presumed to ask 
further were it not that I have no other means of protecting 
her, nor of shielding her from evils that may threaten her, 
and that might prove far worse than bearing the name of 
‘‘Your most obedient servant to command, 
“Amyas Belamour. 

“Bowstead Park, Dec. M, 1737 .” 

“ Enigmatical!^^ said Betty. 

“ It could hardly be otherwise if he had to employ a 
secretary, said her father. “ Who can have written for 
him?"^ 

‘ ‘ His friend, Dr. Godfrey, most probably, " said Betty. 
“It is well spelled as well as indited, and has not the air 
of being drawn up by a lawyer. 

“ No, it is not Hargrave^ s hand. It is strange that he 
says nothing of settlements. 

“ Here is a postscript, adding, ‘ Should you consent, 
Hargrave will give you ample satisfaction as to the prop- 
ertv which I can settle on your daughter. 

Of that I have no doubt,^'’ said the major. “ Well, 
Betty, on reflection, if I were only secure that no force was 
put on the child's will, and if I could exchange a few words 
face to face with Amyas Belamour, I should not be so 
utterly averse as I was at first sight. She is a good child, 
and if she like him, and find it not hard to do her duty by 


130 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


him, she might be as happy as another. And since she is 
out of our reach it might save her from worse. What say 
you, child 

‘‘ That last is the strongest plea with me,’^ said Betty, 
with set lips. 

They took another evening for deliberation, but there 
was something in the tone of the letter that wrought on 
them, and it ended in a cautious consent being given on 
the condition of the father being fully satisfied of his 
daughter's free and voluntary acquiescence. 

“ After all,^^ he said to Betty, “ I shall be able to go up 
to Bowstead for the wedding, and if I find that her inclina- 
tions have been forced, I can take her away at all risks. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

WOOING IN THE DAKK. 

You may put out my eyes with a ballad maker’s pen, and hang 
me up for the sign of blind Cupid . — Much Ado About Nothing. 

Aueelia had been walking in the park with her two re- 
maining charges, when a bespattered messenger was seen 
riding up to the door, and Letitia dropped her hoop in her 
curiosity and excitement. 

Lady Belamour, on obtaining the major ^s partial ac- 
quiescence, had felt herself no longer obliged to vegetate at 
Carminster, but had started for Bath, while the roads were 
still practicable; and had at the same time sent off a courier 
with letters to Bowstead. Kind Mrs. Dove had sent a 
little packet to each of the children, but they found Cousin 
Aura’s sympathy grievously and unwontedly lacking, and 
she at last replied to their repeated calls to her to share 
their delight, that they must run away, and display their 
treasures to Molly and J umbo. She must read her letters 
alone. 

The first she had opened was Betty’s, telling her of her 
father’s illness, which was attributed in great part to the 
distress and perplexity caused by Lady Belamour’ s pro- 
posal. Had it not been for this inopportune indisposition, 
both father and sister would have come to judge for them- 
selves before entertaining it for a moment; but since the 
journey was impossible, he could only desire Betty to assure 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


131 


her sister that no constraint should he put on her, and that 
if she felt the least repugnance to the match, she need not 
consider herself obliged to submit. More followed about 
the religious duty of full consideration and prayer before 
deciding on what would fix her destiny for life, but all was 
so confusing to the girl, entirely unprepared as she was, 
that after hastily glancing on in search of an explanation 
which she failed to find, she laid it aside, and opened the 
other letter. It began imperially. 

My Cousin, — No doubt you are already informed of 
the Honor that has been done you by the Proposal that Mr. 
Amyas Belamour has made to your Father for your Hand. 
It is no slight Compliment to a young Maid like you, from 
one of the most noted Wits about Town in the last Keign; 
and you will no doubt show the Good Sense to esteem your- 
self fortunate beyond all reasonable Expectations or Deserts 
of your own, as well as to act for the Advantage of your 
Family. Be assured that I shall permit no foolish Flighti- 
ness or Reluctance to interfere with your true Welfare. I 
say this, because, as you well know, your Father’s Affection 
is strong and blind, and you might easily draw him into a 
Resistance which could but damage both his Health and his 
Prospects. On receiving the tidings of your Marriage, I 
promise to settle on him the Manor House with an Annuity 
of Three Hundred pounds; but if he should support you in 
any foolish Refusal, I shall be obliged to inform him that I 
can dispense with his Services; therefore you will do wisely 
to abstain from any childish expressions of Distaste. 

“ On your Marriage, you will of course have the enjoy- 
ment of the Pin Money with which Mr. Belamour will 
liberally endow you, and be treated in all Respects as a Mar- 
ried Lady. My daughters shall be sent to School, unless you 
wish to make them your Companions a little longer. Ex- 
pectii^ to hear from you that you are fully sensible to the 
good Fortune and the Obligations you are under to me, 

‘‘ I remain, 

‘‘ Yours, etc., 

“ Urania Belamour.” 

It was with a gasp of relief that Aurelia discovered what 
was required of her. “ Marry Mr. Belamour? Is that all? 
Then why should they all think I should so much dislike 


132 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


it, my lady, and my papa, and sister and all? Nobody ever 
was so good to me, and may be I could make him a little 
happier, though it is not what I expected of him, to forget 
his Mary! Oh, no, I am not afraid; I might have been 
afraid six months ago, but now it is a ditferent thing. I 
am not so foolish! And my dear papa will have the manor 
house forever! And Eugene will be able to go to a good 
school and have a pair of colors in good time! A fortunate 
girl! Yes, of course I am! Then Mrs. Phoebe and Mrs. 
Delia will not flout me any more, even if young Sir Amyas 
should come here! Ah! here are the little girls returning! 
Keep them here? Of course I will. What toys and books 
I will get for them!^^ 

Yet, when the time for her summons drew nigh, a great 
dread and shyness overcame her, lest Mr. Belamour should 
begin on the subject; and she only nerved herself by recol- 
lecting that he could have had no one to read to him her 
father^s letter of reply, and that he was scarcely likely to 
speak without knowing the contents. Still, it was only 
shyness and embarrassment that made her advance timidly, 
but in one moment a new sensation, a strange tremor came 
over her, as instead of merely her finger-tips, her whole 
hand was grasped and fervently pressed, and in the silence 
that ensued the throbbing of her heart and the panting of 
her breath seemed to find an echo. However, the well- 
known voice began, “ My fair visitor is very good in honor- 
ing me to-night. 

Was it coming? Her heart gave such a throb that she 
could only murmur something inarticulate, while there was 
a hasty repressed movement near her. 

‘‘You have heard from your father ?^^ said Mr. Bela- 
mour. 

“ My father is ill, sir,^^ she faltered. 

“Ah, yes, so I was sorry to understand. Has he not 
sent a message to you through your sister ?^^ 

“He has, sir, Aurelia continued, with difficulty, to 
utter. 


There was another silence, another space of tightened 
breath and beating heart, absolutely audible, and again a 
hushod, restless movement heralded Mr. Belamour "s next 
words, “ Did I not tell you truly that my lady devises most 
unexpected expedients?"^ 

“ Then would you not have it so, sir?"" asked Aurelia, 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


133 


in a bewildered voice of perplexity. “ Oh!^^ as again one 
of those echoes startled her, “ tell me what it all means. 

‘‘Hush! listen to me, said Mr. Belamour, in a voice 
that added to her undefined alarm by what seemed to her 
imperious displeasure as uncalled for as it was unusual; but 
the usual fatherly gentleness immediately prevailed, “ My 
child, I should never have entertained the thought for a 
moment but for — ^but for Lady Belamour. This sounds 
like no compliment,^ ^ he added, catching himself up, and 
manifesting a certain embarrassment and confusion very 
unlike his usual calm dignity of demeanor, and thus add- 
ing to the strange fright that was growing upon Aurelia. 
“ But you must understand that I would not — even in 
semblance — ^have dreamed of your being apparently linked 
to age, sorrow and infirmity, save that — strange as it may 
seem — Lady Belamour has herself put into my hands the 
best means of protecting you, and finally, as I trust, secur- 
ing your happiness. 

‘‘You are very good, sir,^^ she continued to breathe out, 
amid the flutterings of her heart, and the reply produced a 
wonderful outburst of ardor in a low but fervent voice. 
“ You will! You will! You sweetest of angels, you will 
be mineT^ 

There was something so irresistibly winning in the 
sound, that it drew forth an answer from the maiden ^s very 
heart. “Oh! yes, indeed — ” and before she could utter 
another word she was snatched into a sudden, warm, vehe- 
ment embrace, from which she was only partly released, as 
— near, but still not so near as she would have expected — 
this extraordinary suitor seemed to remonstrate with his 
ardent self, saying, “Now! now! that will do! So be it 
then, my child,^^ he continued. “ Great will be the need 
of faith, patience, trust, ay, and of self-restraint, but let 
these be practiced for a little space, and all will be well.^' 

She scarcely heard the latter words. The sense of some- 
thing irrevocable and unfathomable was overpowering her. 
The mystery of these sudden alterations of voice, now near, 
now far off, was intolerable. Here were hands claiming 
her, fervent, eager breathings close upon her, and that 
serious, pensive voice going on all that time. The dark- 
ness grew dreadful to her, dizziness came over her; she 
dashed aside the hands, started up with a scream, and amid 
tlie strange noises and flashes of a swoon, knew no more 


134 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


till she heard Mrs. Aylward^s voice over her, found the horrid 
smell of burned feathers under her nose, and water trick- 
ling down her face, dim candlelight was round her, and 
she perceived that she was on a low settee in the lobby. 

“ There, she is coming round. You may tell your mas- 
ter, Jumbo, •’twas nothing but the mince-pies. 

“ Oh, no — began Aurelia, but her own voice seemed 
to come from somewhere else, and being inexperienced in 
fainting, she was frightened. 

“ That is right, you are better. Now, a drop of strong 
waters. 

Aurelia choked, and put them aside, but was made to 
swallow the draught, and revived enough to ask, ‘‘ How 
came I here 

Jumbo must have carried you out, ma^am, and laid 
you here before ever he called any one,^^ said Mrs. Ayl- 
ward. “ Dear, dear, to think of your being taken like 
that. But the tins of those mince-pies are over large! You 
must halve one next time.^^ 

Aurelia was sensible enough to the reproof of greediness 
to begin to protest against the mince-pie theory, but she 
recollected that she could not account for her swoon, and 
thereupon became as red as she had been pale, thus con- 
firming the housekeeper's opinion. A sound of footsteps 
made her start up and cry, ‘‘ What's that?" in nervous 
fright; but Mrs. Ayiward declared it was fancy, and as she 
was by this time able to walk, she was conducted to her 
own room. There she was examined on her recent diet, 
and was compelled to allow the housekeeper to ascribe her 
illness to neglect of autumnal blood-letting and medicine; 
and she only staved off the sending for the barber and his 
lancet the next morning by promising to swallow a dose 
compounded of all that was horrible. 

She was altogether much shaken, she dreamed strange 
dreams by night, was capable of little by day, was declared 
by the children to be cross, and was much inclined to plead 
indisposition as an excuse for not visiting that alarming 
room in the evening. Indeed for the greater part of the 
day she felt as if she must avail herself of the pretext, and 
as if she neither could nor would encounter that strange 
double creature in the dark; but somehow she had been as 
much fascinated as terrified, and, in spite of her resolve. 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


135 


she found herself mechanically following Jumbo, shudder- 
ing all over and as cold as ice. 

The dark chambers were warmed by German stoves, so 
that the atmosphere was always equable, and it seemed to 
revive her, while a kind, warm hand led her as usual to 
her seat, and it was the usual gentle, courteous, paternal 
tone that addressed her, “ How chilly and trembling you 
are! My poor child, you were sadly alarmed last night. 
Aurelia murmured some excuse about being very foolish. 
“ It was not you who were foolish, was the reply; and 
though her hand was retained it was evidently for the sake 
of wanning it, and comforting her, not of Caressing it in 
the startling mode of yesterday. There was a pause, dur- 
ing which her composure began to be restored, and some 
inquiries whether she were quite recovered; to which she 
replied with eager affirmatives, feeling indeed quite herself 
again, now that all was in its familiar state around her. 
Then this strange suitor spoke again. “It is a hard and 
cruel fate that my lady has sought to impose on you.^^ 

“ Oh, do not say so, sir, I — 

“ No,^^ lie interrupted somewhat hastily, “ do not try 
to deny it, my child; I know better than you can what it 
would amount to. Believe me, I only lend myself to her 
arrangement because I know no better means of guarding 
you and preserving you for better days.^^ 

“ I know how kind you are, sir.^^ 

“ And you trust me?^^ 

“ Indeed I do. 

“ That is all I ask. I shall never be a husband to you 
more than in name, Aurelia, nor ask of you more than you 
give me now, namely, your sweet presence for a few hours 
in the evening, without seeing me. Can you bear thus to 
devote your young life, for a time at least?^^ 

“ You know, sir, how glad I always am to be with you,^^ 
said Aurelia, relieved yet half regretting that strange fer- 
vor. “ I will do my very best to please you. 

“ Ah! sweet child,^^ he began, with a thrill of deep feel- 
ing in his voice; but checking himself he continued, “ All 
I ask is patience and trust for a time — for a time — you 
promise it!'’' 

“ With all my heart," said Aurelia. 

“ I will use my best endeavors to requite that trust, my 


136 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


child/ ^ he said. “ Is not the Christian watchword faith, 
not sight? It must be yours likewise. 

‘‘ I hope 8o/^ she said, scarcely understanding. 

He then interrogated her somewhat closely as to the let- 
ters which had prepared her for the proposal; and as 
Aurelia was far too simple to conceal anything under cross- 
examination, Mr. Belamour soon found out what her lady- 
ship^s threats and promises had been. 

“ The manor house he said. “ That is the original 
nucleus of the property which had hitherto gone to the 
heir male?^^ 

“ So my sister told me/^ said Aurelia. 

“ That letter, which Doctor Godfrey read to me, spoke 
of my poor brother's discomfort in holding it. It is well if 
thus tardily she refund it, though not as your price, my 
poor child. It should have been as matter of justice, 
not by her husband's dying wish. So this is the alterna- 
tive set before you! Has it been set before your father 
likewise?" 

“ Almost certainly she will have threatened to dismiss 
him if he do not consent. It was that which made my sis- 
ter decide on sending me here, or what would become of 
him and Eugene? But I should think my lady knew my 
father better than to seem to offer any kind of price, as 
you call it, for me." 

“ Precisely. You have heard from this maternal sister 
of yours? Does he, then, give his consent?" 

They say they will not have my inclinations forced, 
and that they had rather undergo anything than that I 
should be driven to — to — ' ' 

‘‘ To be as much a sacrifice as Iphigenia," he concluded 
the sentence. 

Indeed, sir," said Aurelia, quite restored, “ I can not 
see why they should imagine me to have such objections, 
or want me to be so cautious and considerate. I shall write 
to my papa that it is not at all repugnant to me, for that 
you are very, very good to me; and if I can make your 
time pass ever so little more pleasantly, it is a delight to 
me. I am sure I shall like you better than if — " 

“ Stay, stay, child," he said, half laughing: “ remem- 
ber, it is as a father that I ask you to love and trust the 
old recluse. " 

She thought she had been forward, crimsoned in the dark. 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


137 


en- 


and retired into her shell for the rest of the evening. She 
was glad when, with his usual tact, Mr. Belamour begged 
for the recitation he knew she could make with the least 
effort of memory. 

At the end, however, she ventured to ask — ‘‘ Sir, shall I 
be permitted ever fo see my father and sister?^^ 

Certainly, my child. In due time I hope you will 
joy full liberty, though you may have to wait for it.^^ 

Aurelia durst not ask what was in her mind, whether 
they would not come to the wedding, but that one great 
hope began to outweigh all the strange future. She began 
to say something about being too young, ignorant, and 
foolish for him, but this was kindly set aside, she hardly 
knew how. Mr. Belamour himself suggested the formula 
in which she might send her consent to Lady Belamour, 
begging at the same time to retain the company of the lit- 
tle Misses Wayland. To her father she wrote such a let- 
ter as might satisfy all doubts as to the absence of all 
repugnance to the match, and though the major had sacri- 
ficed all to love and honor himself, mariages de convenance 
were still so much the rule, and wives, bestowed in all pas- 
siveness with unawakened hearts, so often proved loving 
and happy matrons, that it would have been held unreason- 
able to demand more than absence of dislike on the part 
of the bride. 

Therewith things returned to their usual course, and 
she was beginning to feel as if all had been a dream, when 
one evening, about a week later, her suitor appeared to 
have one of those embarrassing fits of youthful ardor; her 
hand was passionately seized, caressed, toyed with by a 
warm strong hand, and kissed by lips that left a burning 
impression and that were no longer hairy. Surely he had 
been shaving! Was the time for which he bade her wait, 
his full recovery, and the resumption of the youtlifulness 
that seemed to come on him in fits and starts; and then to 
ebb away, and leave him the grave courteous old man she 
had first known? And why was it always in a whisper 
that he spoke forth all those endearments which thrilled 
her with such strange emotions? 

When she came into the light, she found her fourth 
finger encircled with an exquisite emerald ring, which 
seemed to bind her to her fate, and make her situation 
tangible. Another time she was entreated to give a lock 


138 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


of her hair, and she of course did so, though it was strange 
that it should confer any pleasure on her suitor in the dark. 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE MUFFLED BKIDEGKOOM. 

This old fantastical duke of dark corners. 

Measure for Measure. 

There was some coming and going of Mr. Hargrave in 
the ensuing weeks; and it began to be known that Miss 
Delavie was to become the wife of the recluse. Mrs. Ayl- 
ward evidently knew it, but said nothing; Molly preferred 
a petition to be her waiting-maid; Jumbo grinned as if 
overpowered with inward mirth; the old ladies in the pew 
looked more sour and haughty than ever to discourage 

the artful minx,^^ and the little girls asked all manner 
of absurd and puzzling questions. 

My lady was still at Bath, and Aurelia supposed that the 
marriage would take place on her return; and that the ma- 
jor and Betty would perhaps accompany her. The former 
was quite in his usual health again, and had himself writ- 
ten to give her his blessing as a good dutiful maiden, and 
declare that he hoped to be with her for her wedding, and 
to give her himself to his honored friend. 

She was the more amazed and startled vhen, one Sun- 
day evening in spring, Mr. Hargrave came to her as she sat 
in her own parlor, saying, “ Madame, you will be amazed, 
but under the circumstances, the parson and myself being 
both here, Mr. Belamour trusts you will not object to the 
immediate performance of the ceremony. 

Aurelia took some monients to realize what the ceremony 
was; and then she cried, “Oh! but my father meant to 
have been here. 

“ Mr. Belamour thinks it better not to trouble Major 
Delavie to come up,'^ said Mr. Hargrave; and as Aurelia 
stood in great distress and disappointment at this disregard 
of her wishes, he added, “I think Miss Delavie cannot 
fail to understand Mr. Belamoui’^s wishes to anticipate my 
lady's arrival, so that he may be as little harassed as possi- 
ble with display and publicity. You may rely both on 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


139 


his honor and my vigilance that all is done securely and 
legally. 

“ Oh! I know that/ ^ said Aurelia, blushing; but it is 
so sudden! And I was thinking of my father — ” 

Your honored father has given full consent in writ- 
ing,” said the steward. “ Your doubts and scruples are 
most natural, my dear madame, but under the circum- 
stances they must give way, for it would be impossible to 
Mr. Belamour to go through a public wedding. ” 

That Aurelia well knew, though she had expected noth- 
ing so sudden or so private; but she began to feel that she 
must allow all to be as he chose; and she remembered that 
she had never pressed on him her longing for her father's 
presence, having taken it as a matter of course, and besides, 
having been far too shy to enter on the subject of her wed- 
ding. So she rose up as in a dream, saying, “ Shall I go 
as I am?" 

I fear a fuller toilet would be lost upon the bride- 
groom,” said the law5"er with some commiseration, as he 
looked at the beautiful young creature about to be bound 
to the heart-broken old hermit. “You will have to do 
me the honor of accepting my services in the part of fa- 
ther." 

He was a man much attached to the family, and espe- 
cially to Mr. Belamour, his first patron, and was ready to 
do anything at his bidding or for his pleasure. Such pri- 
vate weddings were by no means uncommon up to the 
middle of the last century. The State Law was so easy as 
to render Gretna Green unnecessary, when the presence of 
any clergyman anywhere, while the parties plighted their 
troth before witnesses, was sufficient to legalize the union; 
nor did any shame or sense of wrong necessarily attach to 
such marriages. Indeed they were often the resource of 
persons too bashful or too refined to endure the display 
and boisterous merriment by which a public wedding was 
sure to ‘be attended. Every one knew of excellent and re- 
spectable couples who had not been known to be married 
till the knot had been tied for several days or weeks — so 
that there was nothing in this to shock the bride. And as 
usual she did as she was told, and let Mr. Hargrave lead 
her by her finger-tips toward Mr. Belamour' s apartments. 
Mrs. Aylward was waiting in the lobby, with a fixed im- 
passive countenance, intended to imply that, though obedi- 


140 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


ent to the summons to serve as a witness, it was no concern 
of hers. On the stairs behind her the maids were leaning 
over the balusters, stuffing their aprons into their mouths 
lest their tittering should betray them. 

The sitting-room was nearly, but not quite, dark, for a 
lamp, closely shaded, cast a dim light on a Prayer-book, 
placed on a small table, behind which stood poor Mr. 
Greaves — a black specter, whose white bands were just dis- 
cernible below a face whose nervous, disturbed expression 
Was lost in the general gloom. He carefully avoided look- 
ing at the bride, fearing perhaps some appeal on her part 
such as would make his situation perplexing. Contempt 
and poverty had brought his stamp of clergymen very low, 
and rendered them abject. He had been taken by surprise, 
and though assured that tliis was according to my lady^’s 
will, and with the consent of the maiden ^.s father, he was 
in an agony of fright, shifting awkwardly from leg to leg, 
and ruffling the leaves of the book, as a door opened and 
the bridegroom appeared, followed by J umbo. 

Aurelia looked up with bashful eagerness, and saw in 
the imperfect light a tall figure entirely covered by a long 
dark dressing-gown, a gray, tight curled lawyer^s wig on 
the head, and the upper part of the face sheltered from the 
scanty rays of the lamp by a large green shade. 

Taking his place opposite to her as Mr. Hargrave ar- 
ranged them, he bowed in silence to the clergyman, who, 
in a trembling voice, began the rite wliich was to unite 
Amyas Belamour to Aurelia Delavie. He intended to 
shorten the service, but iiis nervous terror and the obscurity 
of the room made him stumble in finding the essential 
passages, and blunder in dictating the vows, thus increas- 
ing the confusion and bewilderment of poor little Aurelia. 
Somehow her one comfort was in the touch of the hand 
that either clasped hers, or held the ring on her finger — a 
strong, warm, tender, trustworthy hand, neither as white 
nor as soft as she would have expected, but giving her a 
comfortable sense both of present support and affection, 
and of identity with that eager one which had sought to 
fondle and caress her. There was a certain tremor about 
both, but hers was from bashful fright; his, from scarcely 
suppressed eagerness. 

The Reward had a form of certificate ready for signa- 
ture. When it was presented to the bridegroom he put up 


LOVE AlTD LIFE. 


141 


his hand for a moment as if to push back th6 shade, but, 
in dread of admitting even a feeble ray of light, gave up 
the attempt, took the pen, and wrote Amyas Belamour 
where the clergyman pointed. Aurelia could hardly see 
what she was doing, and knew she had written very badly. 
The lawyer and housekeeper followed as witnesses; and the 
bridegroom, laying a fee of ten guineas on the desk, took 
his bride by the hand and led her within the door whence 
he had issued. It was instantly closed, and at the same 
moment she was infolded in a pair of rapturous arms, and 
held to a breast whose throbs wakened response in her own, 
while passionate kisses rained on her face, mingled with 
ecstatic whispers and murmurs of ‘ ‘ Mine ! mine ! my own !’ ^ 

On a knock at the door she was hastily released, and 
Mr. Hargrave said, ‘‘ Here are the certificates, sir.^^ Mr. 
Belamour put one into her hand, saying: “ Keep it always 
about you; never part with it. And now, my child, after 
all the excitement you have gone through, you shall be 
subjected to no more to-night. Pare you well, and bless- 
ings attend your dreams. 

Strange that while he was uttering this almost peremp- 
tory dismissal, she should feel herself in a clinging grasp, 
most unwilling to let her go! What did it all mean? 
Could she indeed be a wife, when here she was alone tread- 
ing the long dark stair, in looks, in habits, in externals, 
stnl only the little governess of my lady^s children! How- 
ever, she had hardly reached her room, before there was a 
knock at the door, and the giggling, blushing entrance of 
Molly with, “ Please, ma’am, Madame Belamour, I wishes 
you joy with all my heart. Please can’t I do nothing for 
you? Shall I help you undress, or brush your hair?” 

Perhaps she expected a largesse in honor of the occasion, 
but Aurelia had spent all her money on Christmas-gifts, 
and had nothing to bestow. However, she found on the 
breakfast-table a parcel addressed to Madame Belamour, 
containing a purse with a startling amount of golden 
guineas in it. She was rather surprised at the title, which 
was one generally conferred on dignified matrons whose 
husbands were below the rank of knighthood, such as the 
wives of countiy squires and of the higher clergy. The 
calling her mother Madame Delavie had been treated as 
an offense by Lady Belamour; and when the day had gone 
by, with nothing else to mark it from others, Aurelia, find- 


142 


LOVE AKD LIFE, 


ing her recluse in what she mentally called his quiet ra- 
tional mood, ventured, after thanking him, modestly to in- 
quire whether that was what she was to be called. 

“It is better thus,^^ he said. “ You have every right 
to the title. 

She recollected that he was a baronet ^s younger son, a 
distinction in those days; and that she had been told that 
his patent of knighthood had been made out, though he had 
never been able to appear at court to receive the accolade, 
and had never assumed the title; so she only said, “ Veiy 
well, sir, I merely thought whether my lady would think it 
presuming. 

He laughed a little. “ My lady will soon understand it,^^ 
he said. ‘ ‘ Her husband will be at home in a few weeks. 
And -now, my dear Madame Belamour, he added, play- 
fully, “ tell me whether there is any wish that I can 
gratify. 

“You are very kind, sir — 

“ What does that pause mean, my fair friend 
“ I fear it is too much to ask, sir, but since you inquire 
what would please me most, it would be if you could spare 
me to go to my sister Harrietts wedding?^^ 

“ My child,^^ he said, with evident regret, “ I fear that 
can not be. It will not be prudent to make any move until 
Mr. Wayland^s return; but after that I can assure you of 
more hberty. Meantime, let us consider what wedding- 
present you would hke to Send her.^ ’ 

Aurelia had felt her request so audacious that she sub- 
sided easily; and modestly suggested a tea-service. She 
thought of porcelain, but Mr. Belamour’s views were of 
silver, and it ended in the lady giving the cups and saucers, 
and the gentleman the urn and the tea and coffee pots and 
other plate; but it was a drawback to the pleasure of this 
munificence that the execution of the order had to be in- 
trusted to Mr. Hargrave. The daring hope Aurelia had 
entertained of shopping for a day, with Mrs. Aylward as 
an escort, and choosing the last fashions to send to her sis- 
ters, was quashed by the grave reply that it was better not 
for the present. What was the meaning of all this mys- 
tery, and when was it to end? She felt that it would be 
ungrateful to murmur, for Mr. Belamour evidently was 
full of sorrow whenever he was obliged to disappoint her, 
and much was done for her pleasure. A charming little 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


143 


saddle-horse, two riding-habits, with a groom, and a horse 
for him, were sent down from London for her benefit; 
gifts showered upon her; and whenever she found her hus- 
band in one of those perplexing accesses of tenderness she 
was sure to carry away some wonderful present, a beauti- 
ful jeweled watch, an etui case, a fan, a scent-bottle, or 
patch-box with a charming enamel of a butterfly. The ht- 
tle girls were always looking for something pretty that she 
would show them in the morning, and thought it must be 
a fine thing to have a husband who gave such charming 
things. Those caressing evenings, however, always fright- 
ened Aurelia, and sent her away vaguely uneasy, often to 
lie awake full of a vague yearning and alarm; and several 
days of restlessness would pass before she could return to 
her ordinary enjoyment of her days with the children and 
her evenings with Mr. Belamour. Yet when there was any 
long intermission of those fits of tender affection, she 
missed them sorely, and began to fear she had given 
offense, especially as this strangely capricious man seemed 
sometimes to repel those modest, timid advances which at 
other times would fill him with ill-suppressed transport. 
Then came longings to see and satisfy herself as to what 
was indeed the aspect of him whom she was learning to 
love. 

No wonder there was something unsettled and distressed 
about her, overthrowing much of that gentle duteousness 
which she had brought from home. She wrote but briefly 
and scantily to her sister, not feeling as if she could give 
full confidence; she drifted away from some of the good 
habits enjoined on her, feeling that, as a married woman, 
she was less under authority. She was less thorough in her 
religious ways, less scrupulous in attending to the chil- 
d rent’s lessons; and the general fret of her uncertainties told 
upon her temper with them. They loved her heartily 
still, and she returned their affection, but she was not so 
uniformly patient and good-humored. Indeed since 
Amoret^s departure some element of harmony was missing, 
and it could not now be said that a whine, a quarrel, or a 
cry was a rare event. Even the giving up my lady’s weari- 
some piece of embroidery had scarcely a happy effect, for 
Aurelia missed the bracing of the task-work and the atten- 
tion it required, and the unoccupied time was spent in idle 
fretting. A little self-consequence too began to set in, 


144 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


longing for further recognition of the dignities of Madame 
Belamour. 

The marriage had been notified to Lady Belamour and 
to Major Delavie, and letters had been received from each. 
My lady traveled to London early in April in company 
with Lady Aresfield, and, to the relief of the inmates of 
Bowstead, made no deviation thither. No one else was 
officially told that the wedding had taken place, but all the 
village knew it; and Mrs. Phoebe and Mrs. Delia so re- 
sented it that they abandoned the state pew to Mme. Bela- 
mour and the children, made their courtesies more perpen- 
dicularly than ever, and, when formally invited to supper, 
sent a pointed and ceremonious refusal, so that Aurelia 
felt hurt and angered. 


CHAPTER XXL 

THE SISTERS^ MEETING. 

By all the hope thou hast to see again 
Our aged father, and to soothe his pain, 

I charge thee, tell me, hast thou seen the thing 
Thou call’st thine husband? 

Morris. 

After numerous delays Mr. Arden had at length been 
presented to the living of Rundell Canonicorum, and in 
one of the last days of April Harriet Delavie had become 
his wife. After a fortnight of festivities among their old 
Carminster friends, the happy couple were to ride, pillion- 
wise, to take possession of their new home, passing through 
London, and there spending time enough with some rela- 
tions of the bridegroom to show Harriet the wonders of the 
city. . 

Thence Mrs. Arden sent an urgent invitation from her 
hospitable hostess to Mrs. Belamour, to come and spend 
some days in Gracechurch Street, and share with her sis- 
ter the pleasures of the first sight of London. 

“ 1 assure you,^^ wrote Harriet, that though they be 
Wools taplers, it is all in the wholesale line; and they are 
very genteel, and well-bred persons, who have ever 3 dhing 
handsome about them. Indeed it is upon the Cards that 
the Alderman may, ere many years be passed, be my lord 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


1^5 

mayor; but yet he and his good wife have a proper Appre- 
ciation of Family, and know how to esteem me as one of the 
Delavies. They would hold themselves infinitely honored 
by your Visit; and if you were here, we might even be in- 
vite to Lady Belamour% and get Tickets for Ranelagh. I 
called at my Lady's Door, but she was not within, nor has 
she returned my Visit, though I went in the Alderman's 
own Coach; but if you were' with me she would have no 
Color for Neglect, you being now her Sister-in-law, though 
it makes me laugh to think of it. But as we poor married 
Ladies are compelled to obey our Lords and Masters; and as 
Mr. Belamour may chance to be too high in his notions to 
permit you to be a Guest in this house (as I told our good 
Cousin Arden was very like), we intend to lie a Night at 
Brentford, and remain there for a Day, trusting that youi* 
Husband will not be so cruel as to prevent a Meeting, either 
by your coming to see us, or our coming to see you in your 
presenf Abode, which I long to do. It is a Year since we 
parted, and I can not tell you how I long to clasp my be- 
loved Sister in my Arms. " 

Harriet could not long more for such a meeting than did 
Aureha, and there was, it must be owned, a little relief, 
that it was Harriet, and not the severer judge, Betty, who 
thus awaited her. She could hardly brook the delay until 
the evening, and even wondered whether it were not a 
wife's privilege to anticipate the hour; but she did not 
venture, and only hovered about impatient for Jumbo's 
summons. She came in with a rapid movement that led 
Mr. Belamour to say, ‘‘ Ha, my fair visitor, I perceive that 
you have some tidings to bring me to-day." 

Everything was rapidly poured out, and she anxiously 
awaited the decision. She had little hope of being allowed 
to go to Gracechurch Street, and did not press for it; but 
she could not refrain from showing her earnest desire for 
the sight of her sister, so that it was plain that it would 
have been a cruel disappointment to her if she had been 
prevented from meeting the newly married couple. She 
detected a certain sound of annoyance or perplexity in the 
tones that replied, and her accents became almost plaint- 
ively imploring as she concluded, “ Pray, pray, sir, do 
not deny me." 

No, my child, I could not be cruel enough for a re- 


140 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


fusal/^he answered; ‘‘I was but considering how most 
safely the thing may be contrived. I know it would be 
your wish, and that it would seem more befitting that you 
should act as hostess to your sister, but I fear that must 
be. for another time. This is not my house, and there 
are other reasons for which it would be wiser for you to re- 
ceive no one here.^^ 

“It will be quite enough for me if I may only go to 
Brentford to meet my dear, dear Harriet. 

“ Then be it so, my child. Present my compliments to 
Mrs. Arden, and entreat her to excuse the seeming inhos- 
pitality of the invalid. ” 

Aurelia was overfiowing with joy at the anticipated 
meeting, wrote a delighted letter to make the appoint- 
ment, and skipped about the dark stairs and passages more 
like the butterfiy she was than like Mme. Belamour; 
while Fay and Letty found her a more delightful play- 
fellow than ever, recovering all the animation she had lost 
during the last weeks. Her only drawback to the pleasure was 
that each intervening evening convinced her more strongly 
that Mr. Belamour was uneasy and dissatisfied about the 
meeting which he could not prohibit. On the previous 
night he asked many questions about her sister, in especial 
whether she were of an inquisitive disposition. 

“ That rather depends on how much she has to say 
about herself,^ ^ returned Aurelia, after some refiection. 
“ She likes to hear about other people ^s affairs, but she 
had much rather talk of her own. 

This made Mr. Belamour laugh. “ Considering,^^ he 
said, “ how recently she has undergone the greatest event 
of a woman’s life, let us hope that her imagination and 
her tongue may be fully occupied by it during the few 
hours that you are to pass together. It seems hard to put 
any restraint on 5^our ingenuous confidence, my sweet 
friend; but I trust to your discretion to say as little as you 
can contrive of your strange position here, and of the in- 
firmities and caprices of him whose name you have deigned 
to bear.” 

“ Sir, do you think I could?” 

“ It is not for my own sake, but for yours, that I would 
recommend caution,” he continued. “The situation is 
unusual, and such disclosures might impel persons to inter- 
fere for what they thought your interest; but you have 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


147 


promised me your implicit trust, and you will, I hope, 
prove it. You can understand how painful would be such 
well-meaning interference, though you can not understand 
how fatally mischievous it would be. 

‘‘ I had better say I can tell her nothing,^^ said Aurelia, 
startled. 

“Nay, that would excite still greater suspicion. Reply 
briefly and carefully, making no mysteries to excite 
curiosity, and avert the conversation from yourself as much 
as possible. 

Man of the world and brilliant talker as he had been, he 
had no notion of the difficulty of the task he had imposed 
on the simple open-hearted girl, accustomed to share all 
her thoughts with her sister; and she was too gay and joy- 
ous to take full note of all his cautions, only replying sin- 
cerely that she hoped that she should say nothing amiss, 
and that she would do her best to be heedful of his wishes. 
In spite of all such cautions, she was too happy to take in 
the notion of anxiety. She rose early in the morning, 
caring for the first time to array herself in the insignia of 
her new rank. Knowing that the bridle-path lay through 
parks, woodlands, and heaths, so that there was no fear 
of dust, she put on a dainty habit of white cloth, trimmed 
and faced with blue velvet, and a low-crowned hat with a 
white feather. On her pretty gray horse, the young Mme. 
Belamour was a fair and gracious sight, as she rode into 
the yard of the Red Lion at Brentford. Harriet was at 
the window watching for her, and Mr. Arden received her 
as she sprung off her steed, then led her up to the parlor, 
where breakfast was spread awaiting her. 

“ Aurelia, what a sweet figure you, make,^^ cried Har- 
riet, as the sisters unwound their arms after the first ecstasy 
of embracing one another again. “ Where did you get 
that exquisite habit 

“ It came down from London with another, a dark 
blue,^^said Aurelia. “I suppose Ml Belamour ordered 
them, for they came with my horse. It is the first time I 
have worn it.^^ 

“Ah! fine things are of little account when there is no 
one to see them,^^ said Mrs. Arden, shaking her head in 
commiseration. 

She was attired in a gray riding-dress with a little silver 
lace about it, and looked wonderfully plump and well, full 


148 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


of importance and complacency, and with such a return of 
comeliness that Aurelia would hardly have recognized the 
lean, haggard, fretful Harriet of the previous year. Her 
sentiment and romance, her soft melancholy and little 
affectations had departed, and she was already the notable 
prosperous wife of a beneficed clergyman, of whose abili- 
ties she was very proud, though she patronized with good- 
humored contempt his dreamy, unpractical, unworldly 
ways. 

The questions poured forth from Aurelia ^s heart-hunger 
about brother, sister and home, were answered kindly and 
fully over the breakfast-table; but as if Harriet had turned 
that page in her life, and expected Aurelia to have done 
the same, every now and then exclaiming: “La! you have 
not forgotten that! What a memory you have, child !’^ 

She wanted much more to talk of the parsonage and 
glebe of Eundell Canonicorum, and of how many servants 
and cows she should keep, and showed herself almost an- 
noyed when Aurelia brought her back to Carminster by ask- 
ing whether Eugene had finished his “ Comenius,^^ and if 
the speckled hen had hatched many chickens, whether Palm- 
er h^ had his rheumatic attack this spring, or if the ma- 
jor's letter to Vienna had produced any tidings of Nan- 
nerPs relations. Harriet seemed only to be able to reply by 
an effort of memory, and was far more desirous of expatiat- 
ing on the luxuries at Alderman Arden^s, and the deference 
with which she had been treated, in contrast to the indig- 
nity of Lady BelamouPs neglect. 

It was disappointing to find that her father had heard 
nothing from my lady -about the settlement of the manor 
house. 

“Was the promise in writing asked Mr. Arden, who 
had been silent all this time. 

Certainly, in a letter to me. " 

“ I recommend you to keep it carefully until Mr. Way- 
land's return," said Mr. Arden: “ he will see justice done 
to you." 

“ Poor Mr. Wayland! When he does return, I pity him; 
but it is his own fault for leaving his lady to herself. Have 
you ever seen the gaUant colonel, sister?" 

“ Never." 

“ Ah! most like he is not much at Bowstead. But do 
not folk talk there?' ' 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


149 


‘‘ My dear/^ said Mr. Arden, ‘‘ you would do well to 
imitate your honored father^ s discretion on certain points. 

“ Bless me, Mr. Arden, how you startled me. I thought 
you were in a brown study. She winked at Aurelia as if 
to intimate that she meant to continue the subject in his 
absence, and went on: “I assure you, I had to be on the 
alert all the way to take care he looked at the sign-posts, 
or we might ha^e been at York by this time. And in Lon- 
don, what do you think was all my gentleman cared to go 
and see? Why, he must needs go to some correspondents 
of his who are Fellows of the Royal Society. I took it for 
granted they must be friends of his majesty or of the 
Prince of Wales at the least, and would have had him wait 
for his new gown and cassock; but la! it was only a set of 
old doctors and philosophers, and he wished to know what 
musty discoveries they had been making. That was one 
thing he desired in London, and the other was to hear that 
crazy Parson Wesley preach a sermon hours long!^^ 

“ I was well rewarded in both instances, said Mr. Arden 
gravely. 

Aurelia did not take advantage of the opportunity of 
shining in the eyes of her new brother-in-law by showing 
her acquaintance with the discussions on electricity which 
she had studied for Mr. Belamour^s benefit, nor did she 
speak of Dr. Godfrey's views of Wesley and Whitefield. 
Had she so ventured, her sister would have pitied her, and 
Mr. Arden himself been somewhat shocked at her being 
admitted to knowledge unbecoming to a pretty young 
lady. Intellect in ladies would have been a startling idea, 
and though very fond of his wife, he never thought of her 
as a companion, but only as the mistress of his house and 
guardian of fiis welfare. 

The dinner was ordered at one, and at three Aurelia 
would ride home, while Mr. and Mrs. Arden went on about 
twelve miles to the house of a great grazier, brother to the 
alderman^swife, where they had been invited to make their 
next stage, and spend the next day, Sunday, when Harriet 
reckoned on picking up information about cattle, if she were 
not actually presented with a cow or a calf. They went 
out and walked a little about the town, where presently 
they met Mrs. Hunter. Aurelia met her puzzled stare 
with a courtesy, and she shouted in her hearty tone. 


150 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


“ Miss Delavie! — I mean Mrs. Belamour! Who would have 
thought of seeing you here!'' 

“ l am here to meet my sister — Mrs. Arden. Let me — 
let me present you," said Aurelia in obedience to an im- 
perious sign from her sister, going through the form for 
the first time, while Harriet volubly declared her happiness 
in making Mrs. Hunter's acquaintance, and explained how 
they were on their way to take possession of Mr. Arden's 
rectory of Eundell Canonicorum, the words rolling out of 
her mouth with magnificent emphasis. “ I congratulate 
you, ma'am," said Mrs. Hunter, cordially, “ and you too, 
my dear," she added, turning to Aurelia. “ I would have 
been out long ago to call on you — a sort of relation as you 
are now, as I may say — but it was kept all so mum, one 
never knew the time to drink your health; and my cousins 
Treforth wouldn't so much as give me a hint. But la! 
says I, why should you talk about artfulness? I'm right 
glad poor Mr. Amyas should find, a sprightly young lady to 
cure him of his mopishness. Never mind them, my dear, 
if they do look sour on you. I'll come over one of these 
days and talk to them. Now, I must have you come in to 
take your dinner with us. The doctor will be right pleased 
to find you. I'll take no excuse. I thank Heaven I'm 
always ready whoever may drop in. There's spring chicken 
and sparrow-grass. " 

However, on hearing their dinner was ordered at the inn, 
the good lady was satisfied that to dine with her was im- 
possible; but she insisted on their coming in to partake of 
wine and cake in her best parlor. 

This, however, was a little more than Mr. Arden could 
endure, he made an excuse about seeing to the horse, and 
escaped; while Mrs. Hunter led the two sistere to her close- 
ly shut-up parlor, wainscoted, and hung with two staring 
simpering portraits of herself and her husband, clean as 
soap could make it, but smelling like a long-closed box. 
She went to a cupboard in the wall, and brought out a 
silver salver, a rich cake, glasses and wine, and pouring 
out the wine, touched the glass with her lips, as she wished 
health and happiness to the two brides before her. 

“We shall soon have another wedding in the family, if 
report speaks true," she added. “ They say — but you 
should be the best informed, Madame Belamour — " 

“ W^e heard nothing of the matter, ma'am," said Aurelia. 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


151 


‘‘ That^s odd, since Mr. Belamour is young Sir Amyas's 
guardian; and they can not well pass him over now he has 
begun life again as it were/' laughed Mrs. Hunter. “ 'Tis 
said that my lady is resolved the wedding shall be within 
six weeks." 

“ There are two words to that question/' said Harriet, 
oracularly; I know from good authority that young Sir 
Amyas is determined against the match. " 

‘‘ But is it true, ma'am," cried Mrs. Hunter, eagerly, 
‘‘ that my lady and the Countess of Aresfield met at Bath, 
and that my lady is to have £3,( 00 down to pay off her debts 
before her husband comes home, the day her son is married 
to Lady Arabella?" 

‘‘ Every word of it is true, ma'am," said Harriet, im- 
portantly. 

“ Well now, that folk should sell their own flesh and 
blood!" 

“ How have you heard it. Sister Harriet?" asked Aurelia. 

‘‘ From a sure hand, my love. No other than Mrs. 
Dove. She is wife to my lady's coachman," explained 
Mrs. Arden to her hostess, “ and nurse to the two children 
it is her pleasure to keep with her. " 

“ Dear good Nurse Dove!" cried Aurelia, “ did she come 
to see you?" 

“ Yes, that did she! So I have it from the fountain- 
head, as I may say, that the poor young gentleman's hand 
and heart are to be made over without his own will, that so 
his mother may not have such a schedule of debts where- 
with to face her husband on his return !" 

‘‘ Her Jewels have been all paste long ago, I know very 
well," said Mrs. Hunter, not to be outdone; “though, 
would you' believe it. Doctor Hunter is like all the men, 
and will believe nothing against her! But this beats all the 
rest! Why, I have it from my maid, who is sister to one 
of the servants at the boarding-school in Queen Square, 
whither they have sent the Lady Belle, that she is a regular 
little shrew. She flew at one of the other young ladies like a 
wild cat, because she did not yield place to her at once, and 
scratched her cheeks till the blood ran down, and tore out 
whole handfuls of her hair. She was like one possessed, 
and they had to call the lackey before they could get her 
safe' tied down in bed, where they kept her on bread and 
water, trying to get her to make her apology; but not a 


153 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


word could be got out of her, till they had to yield the 
point lest she should fall sick. 

Aurelia mentally applauded her own discretion in not 
capping this with Mrs. Dovers former tale, and only ob- 
serving that the marriage could not take place before the 
young baronet was of age, without the consent of his per- 
sonal guardian, Mr. Belamour. 

“You will excuse me, my dear, in speaking of your hus- 
band, but he has so long been incapable of acting, that 
they say his consent can be dispensed with.-^^ 

“ Ay, poor Cousin Amyas Belamour said Mrs. 
Hunter. “ He was the only man who ever durst resist 
my lady^s will before, and you see to what she has brought 
him!^’ 

“ Her son is resisting her now,^^ said Harriet; “ and our 
good Dove says it makes her blood boil to see the way the 
poor young gentleman is treated. He, who was the dar- 
ling for whom nothing was good enough awliile ago, has 
now scarce a place in his mother ^s own house. She is cold 
and stately with him, and Colonel Mar, the Lady Beliefs 
brother, being his commanding officer, there is no end to 
the vexations and annoyances they give him, both at home 
and in his quarters. Mrs. Dove says his own man. Grey, 
tells her it is a wonder how he stands out against it all! 
And a truly well-bred young gentleman he is. He came 
to pay me his call in Gracechurch Street only yesterday, 
knowing our kindred, and most unfortunate was it that I 
was stepped out to the office to speak as to our boxes being 
duly sent by the Buckingham wain ; but he left his ticket, 
and a message with the servant, ‘ Tell my cousin, Mrs. 
Arden, ^ he said, ‘ that I much regret not having seen her, 
and I should have done myself the honor of calling sooner 
to inquire for her good father, if I had known she was in 
town. ^ 

“ Well, I have never seen the young gentleman since he 
was a mere child,^^ said Mrs. Hunter. “ His mother has 
bred him to neglect his own home and relations, but I am 
sorry for him.^^ 

“They say,’^ continued Harriet significantly, “that 
they are sure there is some cause for his holding out so 
stiffly — I verily believe my lady suspected — 

“ 0 hush, Harriet!"^ cried Aurelia, coloring painfully. 

Well, it is all oyer new, so you need not be offended/ ■ 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


153 


said Harriet, laughing. “ Besides, if my lady had any 
such notion when she brought about your marriage, she 
must be disappointed, for the young spark is as resolute as 
ever. 

“ And no wonder, if he knows what the lady is like," 
said Aurelia. 

‘‘ Ah! he has admitted as much to the king.^^ 

“ To the king!" cried both auditors. 

“ Oh, yes! you know my lady is very thick with my Lady 
Suffolk, and she persuaded the king to speak to him at the 
levee. ‘ Comment,^ says his majesty in French, ‘ are you a 
young rebel, sir, that refuse the good things your mother 
provides you?^ Not a whit was my young gentleman 
moved. He bowed, and answered that he was acting by 
the desire of his guardian. Excuse me, sister, but the 
king answered — ‘ A raving melancholic! That will not 
serve your turn, sir. Come to your senses, fulfill your 
mothers bond, and weTl put you on the duke^s staff, where 
you may see more of service than of home, or belike get 
into gay quarters, where you may follow any other fmitaisie 
if that is making you commit such hetisesr At that Sir 
Amy as, who is but an innocent youth, fiamed up in his 
cheeks till they were as red as his coat, and said his honor 
was engaged ; on which his majesty swore at him for an 
idiot, and turned his back. Every word of this Mrs. Dove 
heard Colonel Mar tell my lady — and then they fell to 
rating the poor youth, and trying to force out who this 
secret fiame may be; but he is of the same stuff as his 
mother, and as adamantine and impervious. And now the 
colonel keeps him on hard duty continually, and they watch 
him day and night to find out what places he haunts. But 
bless me, Mrs. Hunter, is that the church clock striking? 
We must be gone, or my good man will be wondering where 
we are.^^ 

Mrs. Hunter would fain have kept them, and the last 
words and compliments were of long duration, while 
Aurelia looked on in some surprise at the transformation 
of all Harrietts languishing affected airs into the bustling 
self-importance of Mrs. Arden. She was, however, much 
occupied with all she had heard, and was marveling how 
her report would be received in the dark chamber, when 
her sister began again as soon as they were in the street 
again. ‘‘You are very discreet, Aurelia, as it becomes a 


154 


LOYE AKI) LIFE. 


young married lady, but have yon no notion who this in- 
amorata of the young baronet may be?^^ 

‘‘ No, indeed, how should I?” 

‘‘ I thought he might have confided in your husband, 
since he makes so sure of his support/*’ 

He has only once come to visit Mr. Belamour, and 
that was many months ago. 

“It is strange,^’ mused Harriet; “ Mrs. Dove says she 
would have taken her Bible oath that it was you, and my 
lady believed as much, or she would not have been in such 
haste to have you wedded. Nay, I’ll never believe but he 
made his confidences to Betty when he came to the manor 
house the Sunday after you were gone, though not a word 
could I get from her.” 

“ It must have been all a mistake,” said Aurelia, not 
without a little twinge at the thought of what might have 
been. “ I wish you would not talk of it.” 

“ Well, he could have been but a fickle adorer — ’tis the 
way of men, my dear, for he must have found some new 
flame while his mother and the colonel were both at the 
Bath. They have proof positive of his riding out of town 
at sundown, but whither he goes is unknown, for he takes 
not so much as a groom with him, and he is always in time 
for morning parade.” 

“ Poor young man, it is hard to be so beset with spies 
and watchers,” said Aurelia. 

“ Most true,” said Harriet, “ but I am monstrous glad 
you are safe married like me, child, so that no one can ac- 
cuse us. Such roman tic affairs are well enough to furnish 
a course of letters to the ‘ Tatler,’ or the ‘ Gentlewomen’s 
Magazine,’ but I am thankful for a comfortable life with 
my good man.” 

Therewith they reached their inn, where- Harriet, having 
satisfied herself that the said good man was safe within, 
and profiting by the unwonted calm to write his inangural 
sermon, took Aurelia to her bedroom to prepare for dinner, 
and to indulge in further confidences. 

“ So, Aurelia, I can report to my father that you are 
looking well, and as cheerful as can be expected.” 

“ Nay, I have always told you I am happy as the day is 
long.” 

“What, when you have never so much as seen your hus- 
band?” 


LOVE AKL LIFE. 


155 


“ Only at our wedding, and then he was forced to veil 
his face from the light. 

“Nor has he ever seen you?^^ 

“Not unless he then saw me.^^ 

“ If he were not then charmed enough to repeat the 
view, you are the most cruelly wasted and unworthily 
matched — 

“ Hush, sister broke out Aurelia, in eager indignation. 

“What! is a lovely young creature, almost equal to 
what I was before my cruel malady, to waste her bloom on 
a wretched old melancholic, who will not so much as look 
at her 

“ Harriet, I can not hear this — ^you know not of what 
you are talking! What is my poor skin-deep beauty — if 
beauty it be— compared with the stores of goodness and 
wisdom I find in him.^^^ 

“La! child, what heat is this? One would really think 
you loved him. 

“ Of course 1 do! I love and honor him more than any 
one I ever met — except my dear father. 

“ Come, Aura, you are talking by rote out of the mar- 
riage service. You may be open with me, you know, it 
will go no further; and I do long to know whether you can 
be truly content at heart, said Harriet with re^ affec- 
tion. 

“ Dear sister,^^ said. Aurelia, touched, “ believe me that 
indeed I am. Mr. Belamour is kindness itself. He is all 
he ever promised to be to me, and sometimes more.^^ 

“ Yet if he loved you> he could never let you live moped 
up there. Are you never frighted at the dark chamber? 
I should die of it!^^ 

“ The dark does not fright me,^^ said Aurelia. 

“ You have a courage I have not! Come, now, were you 
never frighted to talk with a voice in the dark?^^ 

“ Scarcely ever!^^ said Aurelia. 

“ Scarcely — when was that?^^ 

“ You will laugh, Harriet, but it is when he is most — 
most tender and full of warmth. Then I hardly know him 
for the same.^^ 

“ What? If he be not always tender to my poor dear 
child, he must be a wretch indeed.-’^ 

“ Oh, no, no, Harriet! How shall I ever make you un- 
derstand?^^ cried Aurelia. “ Never for a moment is he 


156 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


other than kind and gentle. It is generally like a father, 
only more courtly and deferential, but sometimes some- 
thing seems to come over him, and he is — oh! I can not 
tell you — what I should think a lover would be,^^ faltered 
Aurelia, coloring crimson, and hiding her face on her sis- 
ter’s shoulder, as old habits of confidence, and need of 
counsel and sympathy, were obliterating all the warnings 
of last night. 

“ You silly little chit! Why don’t you encourage these 
advances? You ought to be charmed, not frightened.” 

‘‘ They would ch — • I should like it if it were not so 
like two men in one, the one holding the other back. ” 

Harriet laughed at this fancy, and Aurelia was impelled 
to defend it. “ Indeed, Harriet, it is really so. There 
will be whispers — oh, such whispers!” — she sunk her voice 
and hid her face again — “ close to my ear, and — endear- 
ments — while the grave voice sounds at the other end of the 
room, and then I long for light. I swooned for fright the 
first time, but I am much more used to it now.” 

“ This is serious,” said Harriet, with unwonted gravity. 
‘‘ Do you really think that there is another person in the 
room?” 

‘‘Ido not feel as if it could be otherwise, and yet it is 
quite impossible.” 

“ I would not bear it,” said her sister. “ You ought not 
to bear it. How do you know that it is not some vile 
stratagem? It might even be the blackamoor!” 

“No, no, Harriet! I know better than that. It is quite 
impossible. Besides, I am sure of this — that the hands 
that wedded me are the same hands that caress me,' ’ she 
added, with another blushing effort, “ strong but delicate 
hands, rather hard inside, as with the bridle. I noticed it 
because once I thought his hands soft with doing nothing 
and being shut up.” 

“ That convinces me the more, then, there is some 
strange imposition practiced upon you,” said Harriet, anx- 
iously. 

“ Oh, no!” said Aurelia, inconsistently; “ Mr. Belamour 
is quite incapable of doing anything wrong by me. I can 
not let you have such shocking notions. He told me I 
must be patient and trust him, though I should meet with 
much that was strange and inexplicable.” 

This is trusting him much too far. They are playing 


LOVE AND LIFE. 157 

on your inexperience, I am sure. If you were not a mere 
child, you would see what a shocking situation this is.^^ 

“ I wish I had not told you,^^ said Aurelia, tears rushing 
into her eyes. “ I ought not! He bade me be cautious 
how I talked, and you have made me quite forget 

“ Hid he so? Then it is evident that he fears disclosure! 
Something must be done. Why not write to our father?'^ 

“ I could not! He would call it a silly fancy. 

“ And it might embroil him with my lady,^^ added Har- 
riet. “ We must devise another mode.^-^ 

“You will not — must not tell Mr. Arden/ ^ exclaimed 
Aurelia, peremptorily. 

“ Never fear! He heeds nothing more sublunary than 
the course of the planets. But I have it. His device will 
serve the purpose. Ho you remember Eugene confound- 
ing him with Friar Bacon because he was said to light a 
candle without flint or steel? It was true. When he was 
a bachelor he always lit his own candle and Are, and he 
always carries the means. I was frightened the flrst time 
he showed me, but now I can do it as well as he. See,^^ 
she said, opening a case, “ a drop of this spirit upon this 
prepared cotton/^ and as a bright flame sprung up and 
made' Aurelia start, she laughed and applied a taper to it. 
“ There, one such flash would be quite enough to prove to 
you whether there be any deception practiced on you.^^ 

“ I could never do it! Light is agony to Mr. Belamour, 
and what would he think ?^^ 

“ He would take it for lightning, which I suppose he can 
not keep out.-’^ 

“ One flash did come through everything last summer, 
but I was not looking toward him. " 

“ You will be wiser this time. Here, I can give you this 
little bottle and box, for Mr. Arden compounded a fresh 
store in town.^^ 

“ I dare not, sister. He has ever bidden me trust with- 
out sight; and you can not guess how good he is to me, 
and how noble and generous. I can not insult him by a 
doubt. 

“ Then he should not act as no true woman can en- 
dure. 

“ And it would hurt him.^^ 

“Tut, tut, child; if the lightning did not harm him 
how can this flash? I tell you no man has a right to trjfle 


lo8 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


with you in this manner, and it is your duty to yourself 
and all of us to find out the truth. {Some young rake may 
have bribed the black, and be personating him; and some 
day you may find yourself carried olf you know not 
where. 

Harriet, if you only knew either Mr. Belamour or 
Jumbo, you would know that you are saying things most 
shocking 

Convince me, then! Look here, Aurelia, if you can 
not write to me and explain this double-faced or double- 
voiced husband of yours, I vow to you that I shall speak to 
Mr. Arden, and write to my father.-’^ 

“Oh! do not, do not, sister! Kemember, it is of no use 
unless this temper of affection be on him, and I have not 
heard it this fortnight, no, nor more.^^ 

“ Promise me, then, that you will make the experiment. 
See, here is a little chain-stitch pouch — poor Peggy Duck- 
worth^s gift to me — with two pockets. Let me fasten it 
under your dress, and then you will always have it about 
you. 

“ If the bottle broke as I rode home!^^ 

“ Impossible; it is a scent-bottle of strong glass. 

Here Mr. Arden knocked at the door, regretting to in- 
terrupt their confidences, but dinner awaited them; and as, 
immediately after, Mrs. Hunter brought her husband in 
his best wig to call on Mme. Belamour and her relations, 
the sisters had no more time together, till the horses were 
at the door, and they went to their room together to put on 
their hats. 

A whole mass of refusals and declarations of perfect con- 
fidence were on Aurelia^s tongue, but Harriet cut them all 
short by saying, “ Remember, you are bound for your own 
honor and ours, to clear up this mystery !^^ 

Then they rode off their several ways, Mme. Belamour 
toward Bowstead, Mr. and Mrs. Arden on their sturdy 
roadster toward Lea Farm. 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


159 


CHAPTER XXn. 

A FATAL SPAKK. 

And so it chanced; which in those dark 
And fireless halls was quite amazing, 

Did we not know how small a spark 
Can set the torch of love ablazing. 

T. Moore. 

Aurelia rode home in perplexity, much afraid of the 
combustibles at her girdle, and hating the task her sister 
had forced on her. She felt as if her heedless avowals had 
been high treason to her husband; and yet Harriet was her 
elder, and those assurances that as a true woman she was 
bound to clear up the mystery, made her cheeks burn with 
shame, and her heart thrill with the determination to vin- 
dicate her husband, while the longing to know the face of 
one who so loved her was freshly awakened. 

She was strongly inclined to tell him all, indeed she knew 
herself well enough to be aware that half a dozen searching 
questions would draw out the whole confession of her own 
communication and .Harrietts unworthy suspicions; and 
humiliating as this would be, she longed for the oppor- 
tunity. ELere, horever, she was checked in her meditations 
by a stumble of her horse, which proved to have lost a shoe. 
It was necessary to leave the short cut, and make for the 
nearest forge, and when the mischief was repaired, to ride 
home by the high-road. 

She thus came home much later than had been expected; 
Jumbo, Molly, and the little girls were all watching for 
her, and greeted her eagerly. The supper was already on 
the table for her, and she had only Just given Fay and 
Letty the cakes and comfits she had bought at Brentford 
for them when Jumbo brought the message that his master 
hoped that madame, if not too much fatigued, would come 
to him as soon as her supper was finished. 

Accordingly, she came without waiting to change her 
dress, having only taken off her hat and arranged her hair. 

She felt guilty, and dreaded the being questioned, yet 
longed to make her avowal and have all explained. The 


leo 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


usual greetings passed, and then Mr. Belamour said, ‘‘ I 
heard your horse hoofs come in late. You were detained 

She explained about the shoe, and a few sentences were 
passing about her sister when she detected a movement, as 
if a step were stealing toward her, together with a hesita- 
tion in the remark Mr. Belamour was making about Mrs. 
Hunter ^s good nature. 

Quite irrelevantly came in the whispering voice, ‘‘ Where 
is my dearest life?^^ 

“ Sir, sir!^^ she cried, driven at last to bay, “ what is 
this? Are you one or two?^^ 

“ One with you, my sweetest life! Your own — ^your 
husband 

Therewith there was a kind of groan further off, and as 
Aurelia felt a hand on her dress, her fright and distress at 
the duality were complete. While, in the dark, the hands 
were still groping for her, she eluded them, and succeeded 
in carrying out Harrietts maneuver so far that a quick bright 
flame leaped forth, lighting up the whole room, and reveal- 
ing two — yes, two! But it did not die away! In her haste, 
and in the darkness, she had poured the whole contents of 
the bottle on the phosphoric cotton, and dropped both 
without knowing it on a chintz curtain. A fresh evening 
breeze was blowing in from the window, open behind the 
shutters, and in one second the curtain was a flaming, wav- 
ing sheet. Some one sprung up to tear it down, leaping 
on a table in the window. The table overbalanced, the 
heavy iron curtain-rod came out suddenly, and there was a 
fall, the flaming mass covering the fallen! The glare 
shone on a strange white face and head as well as on 
J umbo^s black one, and with a trampling and crushing 
the Are died down, quenched as suddenly as it began, and 
all was obscurity again. 

“ Nephew, dear boy, speak, exclaimed Mr. Belamour; 
and as there was no answer, “ Open the shutters, Jumbo. 
For Heaven^s sake let us see!^^ 

“ Oh! what have I done?^^ cried poor Aurelia, in horror 
and misery, dropping by him on the ground, while the 
opened shutters admitted the twilight of a May evening, 
with a full moon, disclosing a strange scene. A youth in 
a livery riding-coat lay senseless on the ground, partly cov- 
ered by the black fragments of the curtain, the iron rod 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


161 


clinched in one hand, the other arm doubled under him. 
A face absolutely white, with long snowy beard and hair 
hung over him, and an equally white pair of hands tried to 
lift the head. Jumbo had in a second sprung down, re- 
moved the fallen table, and come to his master ^s help. 

Struck head with this,^-’ he said, as he tried to unclasp 
the fingers from the bar, and pointed to a grazed blow close 
to the temple. 

“We must lay him on my bed,^^ said Mr. Belamour. 
Then, seeing the girTs horror-stricken countenance, “ Ah, 
child, would that you had been patient; but it was over- 
tasking you! Call Aylwaid, I beg of you. Tell her he is 
here, badly hurt. What, you do not know him,” as her 
bewildered eyes and half-opened lips implied the question 
she could not utter, “ you do not know him? Sir Amyas 
— my nephew — your true husband 

“ Oh! and I have killed him!” she cried, with clasped 
hands. 

“ Hush, child, no, with God^s mercy! Only call the 
woman and bring a light. ” 

She rushed away, and appeared, a pale terrified figure, 
with the smell of fire on her hair and white dress, in the 
room where Mrs. Aylward was reading her evening chap- 
ter. She could sc-arcely utter her message as she stood 
under the gaze of blank amazement; but Mrs. Aylward 
understood enough to make her start up without another 
word, and hurry away, candle in hand. 

Aurelia took up the other, and followed, trembling. 
When she reached the outer room the rush of air almost 
blew out her light, and pausing, afraid to pass on, she per- 
ceived that Mr. Belamour and Jumbo were carrying the 
insensible form between them into the inner apartment, 
while a moan or two filled her heart with pangs of self- 
reproach. 

She hung about, in terrible anxiety, but not daring to 
come forward while the others were engaged about the 
sufferer, for what seemed a very long time before she heard 
Mrs. Aylward say, “ His arm is broke, sir. We must send 
for Dr. Hunter. The maids are all in their beds, but I 
will go and wake one, and send her to the stables to call 
the groom.” 

“ I had best go,” said Mr. Belamour. “ You are of 
6 


LOVE AlTD LIFE. 


1C»2 

more use than I. He sleeps at the stables, you say?'^ 
Then, seeing the waiting, watching form of Aurelia, he 
said, “ Come in, my poor child. Perhaps your voice may 
rouse him.^^ Every one, including himself, seemed to 
have forgotten Mr. Belamour^s horror of light, for candles 
were flaring on all the tables, as he led the young girl in, 
saying, ‘‘ Speak to him.^^ 

At the death-like face in its golden hair, Aurelia^s voice 
choked in her throat, and it was in an unnatural hoarse 
tone that he tried to say, ‘‘ Sir — Sir Amyas — 

“ I trust he will soon be better,^^ said Mr. Belamour, 
marking her dismay and grief with his wonted kindness, 
‘‘ but his arm needs the surgeon, and I must be going. 
Let Lady Belamour sit here, Mrs. Aylward. I trust you 
with the knowledge. It was my nephew, in disguise, who 
wedded her, unknown to her. She is entirely blameless. 
Let Jumbo fetch her a cordial. There, my child, take 
this chair, so that his eyes may fall on you when he opens 
them. Bathe his head if you will. I shall return quickly 
after having sped the groom on his journey. 

Gloomy and doubtful were the looks cast on Aurelia by 
the housekeeper, but all unseen by the wondering, bewil- 
dered, remorseful eyes fixed on the white face on the pil- 
low, heedless of its perfect symmetiy of feature, and know- 
ing only that this was he who had thrilled her heart with 
his tender tones, who had loved her so dearly, and dared so 
much for her sake, but whom her impatience and distrust 
had so cruelly injured. Had she seen him strong, well, 
and ardent, as she had so lately heard him, her womanhood 
would have recoiled indignantly at the deception which had 
stolen her vows; but the spectacle of the young senseless 
face and prostrate form filled her with compassion, tender- 
ness, and remorse, for having yielded to her sister^s persua- 
sions. With intense anxiety she watched, and assisted in 
the fomentations, longing for Mr. BelamouPs return; but 
time passed on and still he came not. No words passed, 
only a few faint sighs, and one of the hands closed tight on 
Aurelia^ s. 


V 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


163 


CHAPTER XXIIL 

WRATH AND DESOLATION. 

Straight down she ran 
. . . . and fatally did vow 

To wreake her on that mayden messenger 
Whom she had caused be kept as prisonere. 

Spenser. 

Hark! there was the trampling of horses and thunder- 
ing of wheels at the door! Could the doctor be come 
already, and in such a fashion? 

J umbo hurried to admit him, and Mrs. Aylward moved 
to arrange matters, but the clasp that was on Aurelia^s 
hand would not let her go. 

Presently there came, not Hr. Hunter^s tread, but a 
crisp, rustling sound, and the tap of high heels, and in the 
door-way stood, tall, erect, and terrible. Lady Belamour, 
with a blaze of wrath in her blue eyes, and concentrated 
rage in her whole form, while in accents low, but coming 
from between her teeth, she demanded “ Miserable boy, 
what means this?^^ 

‘‘ Oh! madame, take care! he is sadly hurt!^^ cried 
Aurelia, with a gesture as if to screen him. 

“ I ask what this means?^^ repeated Lady Belamour, ad- 
vancing, and seeming to fill the room with her majestic 
figure, in full brocaded dress, with feathers waving in her 
hair. 

His honor can not answer you, my lady,^^ said Mrs. 
Aylward. “ He has had a bad fall, and Mr. Belamour is 
gone to send for the doctor. 

This is the housekeeping in my absence !^^ said Lady 
Belamour, showing less solicitude as to her son^s condition 
than indignation at the discovery, and her eyes and her dia- 
monds glittering fearfully. 

‘‘ Mv lady,^^ said Mrs. Aylward, with stern respectful- 
ness, “I knew nothing of all this till this lady called me 
an hour ago telling me Sir Amyas was hurt. I found him 
as you see. Please your ladyship, I must go back to him. 

Speak then, you little viper, said Lady Belamour, 
turning on Aurelia, who had risen, but was held fast by the 


164 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


hand upon hers. “ By what arts have you well-nigh slain 
my. son? Come here, and tell me.'’^ 

“None, madame!^^ gasped Aurelia, trembling, so that 
she grasped her chair-back with her free hand for support. 
“ I never saw him till to-night. 

“ Lies will not serve you, false girl. Come here this 
instant! I Tcnoio that you have been shamelessly receiving 
my son here, night after night. 

“ I never knew!^^ 

“ Missie madame never knew,^^ chimed in Jumbo. 
“ All in the dark. She thought it old mas^r.^^ 

Lady Belamour looked contemptuously incredulous; but 
the negroes advocacy gave a kind of courage to Aurelia, 
and availing herself of a slight relaxation of the fingers she 
withdrew her hand, and coming forward, said, “ Indeed, 
madame, I knew nothing, I was entirely deceived. Only 
hearing two voices in the dark alarmed me, so that I list- 
ened to my sister, and struck a light to discover the truth. 
Then all caught fire, and blazed up, and — 

“ Then you are an incendiary as well as a traitor,’^ said 
her ladyship, with cold, triumphant malignity. “ This is 
work for the constable. Here, Loveday,^^ to her own 
woman, who was waiting in the outer room, “ take this 
person away, and lock her into her own room till morning, 
when we can give her up to justice. 

“ Oh, my lady,^'’ cried Aurelia, crouching at her feet 
and clinging to her dress, “ do not be so cruel! Oh! let 
me go home to my father !^^ 

“ Madame !^^ cried a voice from the bed, “ let alone my 
wife! Come, Aurelia. Oh!^^ 

The starting up in bed had wrenched his broken arm, 
and he fell back senseless again, just as Aurelia would 
have flown back to him, but his mother stood between, 
spurning her away. 

Another defender, if she could so be called, spoke for 
her. “It is true, please your ladyship, said Mrs. Ayl- 
ward, “ that Mr. Belamour called her the wife of this poor 
young gentleman. 

Jumbo too exclaimed, “No one knew but Jumbo; his 
honor marry pretty missie in masT^s wig and crimson 
dressing-gown.^^ 

“ A new stratagem !^^ ironically observed the incensed 
lady. “ But your game is played out, miss, for madame I 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


1G5 


can not call you. Such a marriage can not stand for a mo- 
ment; and if a lawyer like Aymas Belamour pretended it 
could, either his wits were altogether astray or he grossly 
deceived you. Or, as I believe, he trafficked with you to 
entrap this unhappy youth, whose person and house you 
have, between you, almost destroyed. Eemove her. Love- 
day, and lock her up till we can send for a magistrate to 
take depositions in the morning. Go quietly, girl, I will 
not have my son disturbed with your outcries. 

Poor Aurelia^s voice died in her throat. Oh! why did 
not Mr. Belamour come to her rescue? Ah! he had bid- 
den her trust and be patient; she had transgressed, and he 
had abandoned her! There was no sign of life or conscious- 
ness in the pallid face on the bed, and with a bleeding 
heart she let the waiting-maid lead her through the outer 
apartment, still redolent of the burning, reached her own 
chamber, heard the key turn in the lock, and fell across 
her bed in a sort of annihilation. 

The threat was unspeakably frightful. Those were days 
of capital punishment for half the offenses in the calendar, 
and of what was to her scarcely less dreadful, of promis- 
cuous imprisonment, fetters, and jail-fever. Poor Aure- 
lia^’s ignorance could hardly enhance these horrors, and 
when her perceptions began to clear themselves, her first 
thought was of flight from a fate equally dreadful to the 
guilty or not guilty. 

Springing from the bed, she tried the other door of her 
room, which was level with the wainscoting, and not read- 
ily observed by a person unfamiliar with the house. It 
yielded to her hand, and she knew there was a whole suite 
of empty rooms thus communicating with one another. It 
was one of those summer nights that are never absolutely 
dark, and there was a full moon, so that she had light 
enough to throw off her conspicuous white habit, all 
scorched and singed as it was, and to put on her dark blue 
cloth one, with her camlet cloak and hood. She made up 
a small bundle of clothes, took her purse, which was well 
filled with guineas and silver, and moved softly to the door. 
Hide and seek had taught her all the modes of eluding ob- 
servation, and with her walking-shoes in her hand, and her 
feet slippered, she noiselessly crept through one empty 
room after another, and descended the stair into her own 
lobby, where she knew how to open the sash-door. 


166 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


One moment the thought that Mr. Belamour would pro- 
tect her made her pause, but the white phantom she had 
seen seemed more unreal than the voice she was accustomed 
to, and both alike had vanished and abandoned her to her 
fate. Nay, she had been cheated from the first. Everv- 
thing had given way with her. ' My lady might be coming 
to send her to prison. Hark, some one was coming! She 
darted out, down the steps, along the path like a wild bird 
from a cage.- 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE WANDERER. 

Widowed wife and Avedded maid 
Betrothed, betrayer, and betrayed. 

Scott. 

Aurelia'^s first halt was in a moss-grown summer-house 
at the end of the garden, where she ventured to sit down to 
put on her stout leather shoes. The children '’s toys, a ball 
and a set of ninepins lay on the floor! How many ages 
ago was it that she had made that sarcastic reply to Letty! 
— ^perhaps her last! 

A nightingale, close overhead, burst into a peal of song, 
repeating his one favorite note, which seemed to her to cry 
out Although my heart is broke, broke, broke, broke. 
The tears rushed into her eyes, but at a noise as of open- 
ing doors or windows at the house, terror mastered her 
again, and she hurried on to hide herself from the dawning 
light, Avhich was beginning to increase, as she crossed the 
park, on turf dank with May dew, and plunged deep into 
the thick woods beyond, causing many a twittering cry of 
wondering birds. 

Day had fully come, and slanting golden beams were 
shining through the tender green foliage, and illuminating 
the boles of the trees, ere she was forced by failing strength 
again to pause and sit on a faggot, while gathering breath 
and considering where she should go. Home was her first 
thought. Who could shield her but her father and sister? 
How she longed for their comfort and guardianship! But 
how reach them? She had money, but that could do little 
for her. -England never less resembled those days of Brian 
Boroimhe when the maiden with the gems rich and rare 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


167 


waDclered unscathed from sea |to sea in Ireland. Post- 
chaises, though coming into use, had not dawned on the 
simple country-girhs imagination. She knew there was a 
weekly coach from London to Bath, passing through Brent- 
ford, and that place was also a great starting-place for 
stage-wagons, of which one went through Carminster, but 
her bewildered brain could not recall on what lay it start- 
ed, and there was an additional shock of despair when she 
remembered that it was Sunday morning. The chill of 
the morning dew was • on her limbs, she was exhausted by 
her fatigues of the night, a drowsy recollection of the chil- 
dren in the wood came over her, and she sunk into a 
dreamy state that soon became actual sleep. She was wak- 
ened by a strong bright sunbeam on her 6yes, and found 
that this was what had warmed her limbs in her sleep. A 
sound as of singing was also in her ears, and of calling cows 
to be milked. She did not in the least know where she 
was, for she had wandered into parts of the wood quite 
strange to her, but she thought she must be a great way 
from home, and quite beyond recognition, so she followed 
the voice, and soon came out on a tiny meadow glade, where 
a stout girl was milking a great sheeted cow. 

She knew now that she was faint with hunger and thirst, 
and must take food before she could go much further, so 
taking out a groat, her smallest coin, she accosted the girl, 
and offered it for a draught of milk. To her dismay the 
girl exclaimed ‘‘ Lawk! It be young madame! Sarvice, 
ma^’am I” 

‘‘I have lost myself in the wood/^ said Aureha. “I 
should be much obliged for a little milk.-"^ 

Well, to be sure. Think of that! And have ee been 
out all night? Ye looks whisht !^^ said the girl, readily 
filling a wooden cup she had brought with her, for in those 
days good new milk was a luxury far more easily accessible 
than in ours. She added a piece of barley bread, her own 
intended breakfast, and was full of respectful wonder, pity, 
and curiosity, proposing that young madame should come 
and rest in mother ^s cottage in the wood, and offering to 
guide her home as soon as the cows were milked and the 
pigs fed. Aurelia had some difficulty in shaking her off, 
finding also that she had goneround and round in the laby- 
rinthine paths, and was much nearer the village of Bow- 
stead than she had intended. 


168 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


Indeed, she was obliged to deceive the kindly girl by 
walking off in the direction she pointed out, intending to 
strike afterward, into another path, though where to go she 
had little idea, so long as it was out of reach of my lady 
and her prison. 

Oh! if Harriet were only at Brentford, or if it were pos- 
sible to reach the Lea Farm where she was! Could she 
ask her way thither, or could she find some shelter near or 
in Brentford till the coach or the wagon started? This was 
the most definite idea her brain, refreshed somewhat by the 
food, could form; but in the meantime she was again get- 
ting bewildered in the field paths. It was a part she did 
not know, lying between the backs of the cottages and their 
gardens, and the woods belonging to the great house; and 
the long sloping meadows, spangled with cowslips, were 
much alike. The cowslips seemed to strike her with a 
pang as she recollected her merry day among them last 
spring, and how little she then thought of being a home- 
less wanderer. At last, scarce knowing where she was, 
she sat down on the step of a stile leading to a little farm- 
yard, leaned her head on the top bar and wept bitterly. 

Again she was startled by hearing a voice saying, Sis- 
ter, what is that in the field ?^^ and, starting up, she saw 
Mrs. Delia in high pattens, and her Sunday silk tflcked up 
over her quilted petticoat, with a basket of corn in her 
hand, surrounded by her poultry, while Mrs. Phoebe was 
bending over a coop. She had stumbled unawares on their 
back premises and with a wild hope, founded on their well- 
known enmity to Lady Belamour, she sprung over the stile. 
Mrs. Delia retreated in haste, but Mrs. Phoebe came to 
the front. 

‘‘Oh! Mrs. Phoebe, she cried, “ I ask your pardon. 

“ Mrs. Belamour! Upon my word! To what are we in- 
debted for this visit ?^^ 

“Oh! of your kindness listen to me, madame,^^ said 
Aurelia. “ My lady is come, and there is some dreadful 
mistake, and she is very angry with me; and if you would 
only take me in and hide me till the wagon goes and I can 
get homel^^ 

“ So my lady has found you out, you artful hussy, re- 
turned Mrs. Phoebe. “ 1 have long guessed at your tricks! 
I knew it was no blackamoor that was stealing into the 
great house. 


LOVE AN^D LIFE. 


109 


‘‘ I do not know what you mean. 

. “Oh! it is of no use to try your feigned artlessness on 
us. I wonder at your assurance, after playing false with 
uncle and nephew both at once, 

“ If you would but hear me!^^ 

“I have heard enough of you already. I wonder you 
dare show your face at a respectable house. Away with 
you, if you would not have me send the constable after 
you!^^ 

The threat renewed Aurelia^s terror, and again she fled, 
but this time she fell into a path better known to her, that 
leading to Sedhurst and ultimately to Brentford. 

The recollection of Dame Wheatfield^s genial good nature 
inspired her with another hope, and she made her way to- 
ward the farm. The church-bells were ringing, and she 
saw the farmer and his children going toward the church, 
but not the mistress, and she might therefore hope to find 
her at home and alone. As she approached, a great dog 
began a formidable barking, and his voice brought out the 
good woman in person. “Down, Bouncer! A wonT hurt 
^ee, my lass. What d^ye lack that you bainH at church?^ ^ 
“ May I speak to you, Mrs. Wheatfield? ” 

“ My.stars, if it bainT young miss — madame, I mean! 
Nothing ainT wrong with the child?^^ 

“ Oh, no, she is quite well, but — 

“ What, ye be late for church? Come in and sit ye down 
a bit, and take a bit and sup after your walk. We have 
been and killed Spotty's calf, though 'twas but a stagger- 
ing Bob, but us couldn't spare the milk no longer. So 
we've got the I'in on un for dinner, and you're kindly wel- 
come if you ain't too proud. Only I wish you had brought 
my little missie. " 

“ Oh, Mrs. Wheatfield! Shall I ever see the dear little 
girl again? Oh! can you help me? Do you know where 
Lea Darin is? I'd pay anything for a horse and man to 
take me there, where my sister is staying." 

“ Well, I don't know as my master would hire a horse 
out of a -Sunday, unless 'twere very particler~-illness or 
such-like. Lea Farm did you say, ma'am? Is it the Lea 
out by Windmill Hill — Master Brown's; or Lea Farm, 
down by the river — Tom Smith's?" 

“ No, this is Mr. Meadows's, a grazier.'^ 


170 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


Never heard tell on him, ma^am, but the master 
might, when he comes in. But bless me,^ she added*, 
after a mementos consideration, “ what will the master 
say? HeMl be asking how it comes that a lady like you, 
with a coach and horses of her own, should be coming after 
a horse here. You ainH been and got into trouble with 
my lady, my dear?^^ 

‘‘Oh! dame, indeed I have; pray help me!" 

It was no wonder that Mrs. Wheatfield failed to gather 
more than that young madame had almost burned the 
house, and had fallen under grievous displeasure, so as 
even to fear the constable. 

“ Bless your poor heart! Think of that now! But Tm 
afeard we canT do nothing for you. My master would be 
nigh about killing me if I harbored you and got him into 
trouble with the gentry." 

“ If you could only hide me in some loft or barn till I 
could meet the coach for Bath! Then I should be almost 
at home." 

“ I dare not. The children are routing about every- 
where on a Sunday afternoon; and if so be as there^s a 
warrant out after you^^ (Aurelia shuddered) “ my man 
would be mad with me. He ainT never forgot^ how his 
grandfather was hanged up there in that very walnut for 
changing clothes with a young gentleman in the wars long 
ago."" 

“ Then I must go! Oh, what will become of me?"" 

“ Stay a bit! It goes to my heart to turn you from the 
door, and you so white and faint. And' they won"t be out 
of church yet awhile. You"ve ate nothing all this time! 
What was you thinking of doing, my dear?"" 

“ I don"t know. If I could only find out the right Lea 
Farm, . and get a man and horse to take me there — but my 
sister goes on Monday, and I might not find her, and no- 
body knows where it is. And nobody will take me in or 
hide me till the coach goes! Oh, what will become of me?" 

“ It is bitter hard,"" said the dame. “ I wish to my 
heart I could take you in, but you see there’s the master! 
ITl tell you what: there’s my cousin, Patty Woodman; she 
might take you in for a night or two. But you"d never 
find your way to her cot; it lies out beyond the spinneys. 
I must show you the way. Look you here. Nobody can’t 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


171 


touch you in a church, they hainH got no power there, and 
if you would slip into that there empty place as opens with 
the little door, as the ringers goes in by, afore morning 
prayers is over I^’ll make an excuse to come to evening 
prayer alone, or only with little Davy, as is lying asleep 
there. If Patty is there 1 11 speak and you can go home 
with her. If not, I must e^en walk with you out to the 
spinney. Hern is a poor place, but her’s a good sort of 
body, and won^t let you come to no harm; and her goes 
into Brentford with berries and strawberries to meet the 
coaches, so may be shell know the day.^^ 

“ Oh, thank you, thank you, dear Mrs. Wheatfield! If 
I can only get safe home!^^ 

‘‘ Come, donl be in haste. Youll take a bit of bread 
and cheese, and just a draught of ale to hearten you up a 

Aurelia was too sick at heart for food, and feared to de- 
lay, lest she should meet the congregation, but Mrs. Wheat- 
field forced on her a little basket with some provisions, and 
she gladly accepted another draught of milk. 

Ho one came out by the little door she was told ; all she 
had to do would be to keep out of sight when the ringers 
came ip before the afternoon service. She knew the way, 
and was soon close to Mary Sedhurst^s grave. “ Ah! why 
was he not constant to her,^"* she thou^t; “ and oh! why 
has he deserted me in my need?'’^ 

The little door easily yielded, and she found herself — 
after passing the staircase-turret that led by a gallery to 
the belfry in the center of the church — in an exceedingly 
dilapidated transept; once, no doubt, it had been beautiful, 
before the colored glass of the floriated window had been 
knocked out and its place supplied with bricks. The 
broken effigy of a crusading Sedhurst, devoid of arms, feet, 
and nose was stowed away in the eastern sepulcher, in 
company with funeral apparatus, torn books, and moth- 
eaten cushions; but this would not have sliocked her even 
in calmer moments. She only cared to find a corner where 
she was entirely sheltered, between a green stained pier and 
the high wall and curtain of a gigantic pew, where no doubt 
sweet Mary Sedhurst had once worshiped. The lusty voices 
of the village choir in some exalted gallery beyond her view 
were shouting out a familiar tune, and with some of Bet- 


172 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


ty^s mild superstition about “ the singing psalms/^ she 
heard : 

“ Since I have placed my trust in God, 

A refuge always nigh, 

Why should I, like a tim’rous bird. 

To distant mountains fly? 

“Behold the wicked bend their bow, 

And ready fix their dart, 

Lurking in ambush to destroy 
The man of upright heart. 

“When once the firm assurance fails 
Which public faith imparts, 

’Tis time for innocence to flee 
From such deceitful arts. 

“ The Lord hath both a temple here 
And righteous throne above. 

Whence He surveys the sons of men. 

And how their counsels move.” 

Poor timorous bird, whom even the firm assurance of 
wedded faith had failed, what was left to her but to flee 
from the darts leveled against her? Yet that last verse 
brought a sense of protection. Ah! did she deserve it? A 
prayerless night and prayerless morning had been hers, and 
no wonder, since she had never gone to bed nor risen with 
the ordinary forms; but it was with a pang that she recol- 
lected that the habit of calling out in her heart for guid- 
ance and help had been slipping from her for a long time 
past, and she had never asked for heavenly aid when her 
judgment was perplexed by Harriet, no, nor for protection 
in her flight. 

She resolved to say her morning prayers with full atten- 
tion so soon as the church was empty, and mean time* to fol- 
low the service with all her powers, though her pulses were 
still throbbing and her head aching. 

In the far distance she heard the Commandments, and 
near to her the unseen clerk responding, and then followed 
a gospel of love and comfort. She could not catch every 
word, but there was a sense of promised peace and comfort, 
which began to soothe the fluttering heart, for the first 
time enjoying a respite from the immediate gripe of deadly 
terror. 

The sermon chimed in with these feelings, not that she 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


173 


could have given any account of it, nor preserved any con- 
nected memory, but" it was full of the words. Faith, Love, 
Sacrifice, so that they were borne in on her ear and 
thought. Heavenly Love surrounding as with an atmos- 
phere those who had only faith to “ taste and see how gra- 
cious the Lord is/'’ believing that which can not be seen, 
and therefore having it revealed to their inmost senses, and 
thus living the only real life. 

This was the chief thought that penetrated to her mind 
as she crouched on the straw hassock behind the pew, and 
shared unseen in the blessing of peace. No one saw her as 
the hobnailed shoes trooped out of church and soon she 
was entirely alone, kneeeling still in her hiding-place, and 
whispering half-aloud the omitted morning prayer, whose 
heart-felt signification had, she felt, been neglected for a 
long, long time. 

Since when? Ah! ever since those strange mysterious 
voices and caresses had come to charm and terrify her, and 
when her very perplexity should have warned her to cling 
closer to the aid of her Heavenly Father. Vague yearn- 
ings, uplifted feelings, discontents, and little tempers had 
usurped the place of higher feelings, and blinded her eyes. 
And through it all, her heart began to ache and long for 
tidings of him on whose pale features she had gazed so 
long and who had ventured and suffered so much for her, 
nay, who had started into a moment’s life for her protec- 
tion I All the tumult of resentment at the deception prac- 
ticed on her fell on the uncle rather than the nephew; and 
in spite of this long year of tender kindness and considera- 
tion from the recluse, there was a certain leaping of heart 
at finding herself bound not to him but to the youth whose 
endearments returned with a flood of tender remembrance. 
And she had fled just as he had claimed her as his wife, 
unheeding whether he died of the injury she had caused 
him! All that justified her alarm was forgotten, her heart- 
strings had wound themselves round him, and began to 
pull her back. 

Then she thought of the danger of directing Lady Bela- 
mour’s wrath on her father, and leading to his expulsion 
and destitution. She had been sent from home, and be- 
stowed in marriage to prevent his ruin, and should she now 
insure it? Her return to him or even her disappearance 
would no doubt lead to high words from him, and then he 


174 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


would be cast out to beggary in his. old age. No, she could 
only save him by yielding herself up, exonerating him from 
all knowledge of her strange marriage, far more of the 
catastrophe, and let my lady do her worst! She had, as 
she knew, not been going on well lately, but she had con- 
fessed her faults, and recovered her confidence that her 
Heavenly Father would guard her as long as she reso- 
lutely did her duty. And her duty, as daughter and a 
wife, if indeed she was one, w^as surely to return, where 
her heart was drawing her. It might be very terrible, but 
still it was going nearer to Mm, and it would save her fa- 
ther. 

The door was still open; she wrote a few words. of grati- 
tude and explanation to Dame Wheatfield, on a piece of a 
torn book, wrapped a couple of guineas in it, and laid it in 
the basket, then, kneeling again to implore protection and 
safety, and if it might be, forgiveness and reconciliation, 
she set forth. ‘‘ Love is strong as death, said Mary Sed- 
hurst^s tomb. She knew better what that meant than when 
her childish eyes first fell upon it. A sense of Divine 
Love was wrapping her round with a feeling of support 
and trust, while the human love drew her onward to con- 
front all deadly possibilities in the hope of rejoining her 
husband, or at least of averting misfortune from her father. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

VANISHED 

Where there is no place 
For the glow-worm to lie, 

Where there is no space 
For receipt of a fly, 

Where the midge dares not venture 
Lest herself fast she lay, 

If Love comes, he will enter 
And find out the way. 

Old Song. 

Major Delavie and his eldest daughter were sitting 
down to supper in the twilight, when a trampling of horses 
was heard in the lane, a carriage was seen at the gate, and 
up the pathway came a slender youtliful figure, in a scarlet 
coat, with an arm in a sling. 

‘‘ It is! yes, it is!"" exclaimed Betty, “ Sir Amyas him- 
self!"" 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


175 


“ Folly, child! Yet — by allihe powers, it is! And hurt 
too!^^ 

In spite of his lameness, the major had opened the door 
before Palmer could reach it; but his greeting and inquiry 
were cut short by the young man^s breathless question: Is 
she here?^^ 

‘‘ Who?’^ 

j ‘‘ My wife — my love. Your daughter, sweet Aurelia! 
' Ah! it was my one hope^^^ 

( ‘‘ Come in, come in, sir,^-’ entreated Betty, seeing how 

fearfully pale he grew. ‘‘ What has befallen you, and 
where is my sister?^-’ 

“ Would that I knew! I trusted to have found her here; 
but now, sir, you will come with me and find her?^^ 

“ I do not understand you, sir,^^ said the major severely, 
“ nor how you are concerned in the matter. My daughter 
is the wife of your uncle, Mr. Belamour, and if, as I fear, 
you bear the marks of a duel in consequence of any levity 
toward her, I shall not find it easy to forgive. 

‘‘ On my word and honor it is no such thing, said the 
youth, raising a face full of frank innocence: “Your 
daughter is my wife, my most dear and precious wife, with 
full consent and knowledge of my uncle. I was married to 
her in his clothes, in the darkened room, our names being 
the same!^^ 

“Was this your promise?^^ Betty exclaimed. 

“ Miss Delavie, to the best of my ability I have kept 
my promise. Your sister has never seen me, nor to her 
knowledge spoken with me ^ 

“ These are riddles, young man,^^ said the major 
sternly. “ If all be not well with my innocent child, I 
shall know how to demand an account. 

“ Sir,-’-’ said the youth: “ I swear to you that she is the 
same innocent maiden as when she left vou. Oh!^^ he add- 
ed with a gesture of earnest entreaty, “ blame me as you 
will, only trace her. -’^ 

“ Sit down, and let us hear,^^ said Betty kindly, push- 
ing a chair toward him and pouring out a glass of wine. 
He sunk into the first, but waved aside the second, becom- 
ing however so pale that the major sprung to hold the wine 
to his lips saying: “ Drink, boy, I say!^^ 

“ Not unless you forgive me,'^ he replied in a hoarse, 
exhausted voice. 


176 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


‘‘Forgive! Of course, I forgive, if you have done no 
wrong by my child. I see, I see, His not willfully. You 
have been hurt in her defense. 

“ Not exactly,^^ he said: “ I httve much to tell,^^ but 
the words came slowly, and there was a dazed weariness 
about his eye that made Betty say, in spite of her anxiety. 
“You can not till you have eaten, and rested. If only one 
word to say where she is!^’’ 

“Oh! that I could! My hope was to find her here,^^ 
and he was choked by a great strangling sob, which his 
youthful manhood sought to restrain. 

Betty perceived that he Avas far from being recovered 
from the injury he had suifered, and did her best to re- 
strain her own and her father ^s anxiety till she had per- 
suaded him to swallow some of the excellent coffee which 
Nannerl always made at sight of a guest. To her father^s 
questions meantime, he had answered that he had broken 
his arm ten days ago, but he could not wait, he had posted 
down as soon as he could move. 

“ You ought to sleep before you tell us further, said 
the major, speaking from a strong sense of the duties of a 
host; but he was relieved wl.en the youth answered, “You 
are very good sir, but I could not sleep till you know all. ” 

“ Speak, then,^^ said the major, “ I can not look at 
your honest young countenance and think you guilty of 
more than disobedient folly; but I fear it may have cost 
my poor child very dear! Is it your mother that you 
dread?” 

“ I would be thankful even to know her in my mother’s 
keeping!” he said. 

“Is there no mistake?” said the major; “ my daugh- 
ter, Mrs. Arden, saw her at Brentford, safe and blooming. ’ ’ 

“ Oh, that was before — before — ” said Sir Amyas, “ the 
day before she fied from my mother at Bowstead, and has 
been seen no niore.” 

He put liis hand over his face, and bowed it on the table 
in such overpowering grief as checked the exclamations of 
horror and dismay and the wrathful demands that were 
rising to the lips of his auditors, and they only looked at 
one another in speechless sorrow. Presently he recovered 
enough to say, “ Have patience with me, and I will try to 
explain all. My cousin, Miss Helavie, knows that I loved 
her sweet sister from the moment I saw her, and that I 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


177 


hurried to London in the hope of meeting her at my 
mother’s house. On the contrary, my mother, finding it 
vain to deny all knowledge of her, led me to believe that 
she was boarded at a young, ladies’ school with my little 
sisters. I lived on the vain hope of the holidays, and 
meantime every effort was made to drive me into a mar- 
riage which my very soul abhorred, the contract being ab- 
solutely made by the two ladies, the mothers, without my 
participation, nay, against my protest. I was to be cajoled 
or else persecuted into it —sold, in fact, that my mother’s 
debts might be paid before her husband’s return! I knew 
my Uncle Belamour was my sole true personal guardian, 
though he had never acted further than by affixing his sig- 
nature when needed. I ought to have gone long before to 
see him, but as I now understand, obstacles had been pur- 
posely placed in my way, while my neglectful reluctance 
was encouraged. It was in the forlorn hope of finding in 
him a resource that took me to Bowstead at last, and then 
it was that I learned how far my mother could carry decep- 
tion. There I found my sisters, and learned that my own 
sweetest life had been placed there likewise. She was that 
afternoon visiting some old ladies, but my uncle repre- 
sented that my meeting her could only cause her trouble 
and lead tc her being removed. I was forced then to yield, 
having an engagement in London that it would have been 
fatal to break, but I came again at dark, and having sworn 
me to silence, he was forced to Idt me take advantage of 
the darkness of his chamber to listen to her enchanting 
voice. He promised to help me, as far as he had the 
power, in resisting the hateful Aresfield engagement, and 
he obtained the assistance of an old friend in making him- 
self acquainted with the terms of his guardianship, and 
likewise of a letter my father had left for him. He has 
given me leave to show a part of it to you, sir,” he added; 

you will see that my father expressed a strong opinion 
that you were wronged in the matter of the estates, and de- 
clared that he had hoped to make some compensation by a 
contract between one of your daughters and my brother 
who died. He charged my uncle if possible to endeavor to 
bring about such a match between one of your children 
and myself. Thus, you see, I was acting in the strictest 
obedience. You shall see the letter at once, if I may bid 
my fellow Gray bring my pocket-book from my valise.” 


178 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


“ I doubt not of your words, my young friend; your fa- 
ther was a gentleman of a high and scrupulous honor. But 
why all this liide-and-seek work? I hate holes and cor- 
ners 

“You will see how we were driven, sir. My mother 
came in her turn to see my uncle, and obtain his sanction 
to her cherished plan, and when he absolutely refused, on 
account of Lady Aresfield^s notorious character, if for no 
other, she made him understand that nothing would be 
easier than to get him declared a lunatic and thus to dis- 
pense with his consent. Then, finding how the sweet so- 
ciety of your dear daughter had restored him to new life 
and spirit, she devised the notable expedient of removing 
what she suspected to be the chief cause of my contumacy, 
by marrying the poor child to him. He scouted the idea as 
a preposterous and cruel sacrifice, but it presently appeared 
that Colonel Mar was ready to find her a debauched old 
lieutenant who would gladly marry — what do I say? it pro- 
fanes the word — but accept the young lady for a couple of 
hundred pounds. Then did I implore my uncle to seem to 
yield, and permit me to personate him at the ceremony. 
Our names being the same, and all being done in private 
and in the dark, the whole was quite possible, and it seemed 
the only means of saving her from a terrible fate.^^ 

“ He might — or you might, have remembered that she 
had a father said the major. 

“ True, but you were at a distance, and my mother^ s 
displeasure against you was to be deprecated. ” 

“ I had rather she had been offended fifty times than 
have had such practices with my poor little girl!^^ said 
Major Delavie. “No wonder the proposals struck me as 
strange and ambiguous. Whose writing was it?^^ 

“Mine, at his dictation,” said the youth. “He was 
unwilling, but my importunity was backed by my 
mother's threats, conveyed through Hargrave, that unless 
Aurelia became his wife she should be disposed of other- 
wise, and that his sanity might be inquired into. Har- 
grave, who is much attached to my uncle, and is in great 
awe of my lady, was thoroughly frightened, and implored 
him to secure himself and the young lady by consenting, 
thinking, too, that anything that would rouse him would 
be beneficial.” 

“ It is strange!" mused the major, “ A clear-headed. 


LOVE ANT) LIFE. 


179 


punctilious man like your uncle, to lend himself to a false 
marriage! His ten years of melancholy must have changed 
him greatly!’^ 

“ Less than you suppose, sir; but you will remember 
that my mother is esteemed as a terrible power by all 
concerned with her. Even when she seemed to love me 
tenderly, I was made to know what it was to cross her will, 
and alas! she always carries her point. 

‘‘ It did seem a mode of protection,^ ^ said Betty, more 
kindly. 

“ And,’^ added the youth, ‘‘ my uncle impressed on me 
from the first that he only consented on condition that I 
treated this wedlock as betrothal alone, never met my 
sweet love save in his dark room, and never revealed my- 
self to her. He said it was a mere expedient for guarding 
her until I shall come of age, or Mr. Wayland comes 
home, when I shall woo her openly, and if needful, repeat 
the ceremony with her full knowledge. Meanwhile I wrote 
the whole to my step-father, and am amazed that he has 
never written nor come home. 

‘‘ That is the only rational thing I have heard,^'’ said 
the major. “ Though — did your uncle expect your young 
blood to keep tbe terms?'’^ 

‘‘ Indeed, sir, I was frightened enough the first evening 
that I ventured on any advances, for they startled her 
enough to make her sw^oon aw'ay. I carried her from her 
room, and my uncle dragged me back before the color 
came back to that lovely face so that the women might 
come to her. That was the only time I ever saw her save 
through the chinks of the shutters. Judge of the distrac- 
tion I lived in !^^ 

Betty looked shocked, but her ' father chuckled a little, 
though he maintained his tone of censure. ‘‘ And may I 
inquire how often these distracting interviews took place 
Cruelly seldom for one to whom they were life itself! 
Mar is, as you know, colonel of my corps, and my liberty 
has been restrained as much as possible; I believe I have 
been oftener on guard and on court-martial than any offi- 
cer of my standing in the service; but about once in a fort- 
night I could contrive to ride down to a little Avayside inn 
where I kept a fresh horse, also a livery coat and hat. I 
tied up my. horse in a barn on the borders of the park, and 
put on a black vizard, so as to pass for my uncle^s negro 


180 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


in tlie dark. I could get admittance to my nucleus rooms 
unknown to any servant save the faithful J umbo — W'ho has 
been the sole depositary of our secret. However, since my 
mother^s return from Bath, where the compact with Lady 
Aresfield was fully determined, the persecution has been 
fiercer. I may have aroused suspicion by failing to act my 
part when she triumphantly announced my uncle^s mar- 
riage to me, or else by my unabated, resistance to the little 
termagant who is to be forced on me. At any rate, I have 
been so intolerably watched whenever I was not on duty, 
that my hours of bliss became rarer than ever. Well, sir, 
my uncle charges me with indiscretion, and says my ardor 
aroused unreasonable suspicions. He was constantly anx- 
ious, and would balk me in my happiest and most tantal- 
izing moments by making some excuse for breaking up the 
evening, and then would drive me frantic by asking 
whether he was to keep up my character for consistency in 
my absence. However, ten days since, the twelfth of May, 
after three weeks^ unendurable detention in town on one pre- 
text or another, I escaped, and made my way to Bowstead 
at last. My uncle told me that he had been obliged un- 
willingly to consent to our precious charge going to meet 
her sister at Brentford, and that she was but newly come 
home. Presently she entered, but scarcely had I accosted 
her before a blaze broke out close to us. The flame caught 
the dry old curtains, they flamed up like tinder, and as I 
leaped up on a table to tear them down, it gave way with 
me, I got a blow on the head, and knew no more. It 
seems that my uncle, as soon as the fire was out, finding 
that my arm was broken, set out to send the groom for the 
doctor — he being used to range the park at night. The 
stupid fellow, coming home half tipsy from the village, saw 
his white hair and beard in the moonlight, took him for a 
ghost, and ran off headlong. Thereupon my uncle, with 
new energy in the time of need, saddled the horse, changed 
his dressing-gown for the groom^s coat, and rode off to 
Brentford. Then, finding that Dr. Hunter was not within, 
he actually went on to London, where Dr. Sandys, who had 
attended him ever since his wound, forced him to go to 
bed, and to remain there till his own return. Thus my 
darling had no one to protect her, when, an hour or so 
after the accident, my mother suddenly appeared. Spies 
had been set on me by Mar, and so soon as they had 


LOVE A NO LIFE. 


181 


brought intelligence of my movements she had hrm-ied olf 
from Ranelagh, in full dress, just as she was, to track and 
surprise me. My uncle, having gone by the bridle-path, 
had not met her, and I was only beginning to return to my 
senses. I have a dim recollection of hearing my mother 
threatening and accusing Aurelia, and striving to inter- 
fere, but I was as one bound down, and all after that is 
blank to me. When my understanding again became 
clear, I could only learn that my mother had locked her 
into her own room, whence she had escaped, and — ^with 
a groan — “ nothing has been heard of her since Again 
he dropped his head on his hand as one in utter dejection. 

“ Fled! What has been done to trace her?^^ cried the 
major. 

“ Nothing could be done till my mother was gone and 
my uncle returned. The delirium^ was on me, and what- 
ever I tried to say turned to raving, all the worse if 1 saw 
or heard my mother, till Dr. Sandys forbade her coming 
near me. She was invited to the queen^s Sunday card 
party moreover, so she fortunately quitted Bowstead just 
before Mr. Belamour^s return.^'’ 

‘‘ Poor gentleman, he could do nothing,"'^ said Betty. 

“ Indeed I should have thought so, but it seems that he 
only needed a shock to rouse him. His state had become 
hypochondriacal, and this strong emotion has caused him 
to exert himself; and when he came into the daylight, he 
found he could bear it. I could scarce believe my eyes 
when, on awakening from a sleep, I found him by my bed- 
side, promising me that if I would only remain still, he 
would use every endeavor to recover the dear one. He 
went first to Brentford, thinking she might have joined 
her sister there, but Mr. and Mrs. Arden had left it at the 
same time as she did. Then he traveled on to their rec- 
tory at Eundell Canonicorum, thinking she might have fol- 
lowed them, but they had only just arrived, andiliad heard 
nothing of her; and he next sought her with his friend the 
Canon of Windsor, but all in vain. Meantime my mother 
had visited me, and denied all knowledge of her, only cariy- 
ing away my little sisters, I beUeve because she found them 
on either side of my bed, telling me tales of their dear 
Cousin Aura^s kindness. W^hen my uncle returned to 
Bowstead I could bear inaction no longer, and profited by 
my sick-leave to travel down hither, trusting that she might 


182 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


liave found her way to her home, and longing to confess all 
and implore your pardon, sir — and, alas! your aid in seek- 
ing her. 

With the large tears in his eyes, the youth rose from his 
chair as he spoke, and knelt on one knee before the major, 
who exclaimed, extremely affected: “ By all that is sacred, 
you have it, my dear boy. It is a wretched affair, but you 
meant to act honorably throughout, and you have suffered 
heavily. May God bless you both, and give us back my 
dear child. My lady must have been very hard with her, 
to make her thus fly, all alone. You do not know, I sup- 
pose, any cause for so timid a creature preferring flight to 
a little restraint 

‘‘ It seems, said Sir Amyas sadly, “ that sometliing the 
dear girl said gave color to the charge of having caused the 
fire, and that my mother in her first passion threatened her 
with the constable 

“ My poor Aurelia! that might well scare her,^^ cried 
Betty: “ but how could it be?^^ 

‘ ‘ They say she spoke of using something her sister had 
given her to discover what the mystery was that alarmed 
her.^^ 

“Ah! that gunpowder trick of Mr. Arden^s — I always 
hated it!^^ exclaimed Betty. 

“ Gunpowder indeed ! ^ growled the old soldier. “Well, 
if ever there’s mischief among the children, Harriet is al- 
ways at the bottom of ifc. I hope Mr. Belamour made her 
confess if she had a hand in it.” 

“ I believe he did,” said Sir Amyas. 

“Just like her to set the match to the train and then 
run away,” said the major. 

“ Still, sir,” said Betty, her womanhood roused to de- 
fense, “ though I am angered and grieved enough that Har- 
riet should have left Aurelia to face the consequences of the 
act she instigated, I must confess that even by Sir Amyas’ s 
own showing, if he will allow me to say so, my sisters were 
justified in wishing to understand the truth. ” 

“ That is what my uncle tells me,” said the baronet. 
“ He declares that if I had attended to his stipulations, 
restrained my fervor, or kept my distance, there would 
have been neither suspicion nor alarm. As if I had not re- 
strained myself!” 

“ Ay, I dare say,/ said the major, a little amused. 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


183 


‘‘ Well;, sir, whafc could a man do with the most bewitch- 
ing creature in the world, his own wife, too, on the next 
chair to him?^^ 

There was a simplicity about the stripling — ^for he was 
hardly more — which forced them to forgive him; besides, 
they were touched by his paleness and fatigue. His own 
man — a respectable elderly servant whom the major rec- 
ollected waiting on Sir Jovian— came to beg that his honor 
M'ould sit up no longer, as he had been traveling since six 
in the morning, and was quite worn out. Indeed, so it 
proved; for when the major and Betty not only promised 
to come with him on the search the next day. But bade 
him a kind of affectionate good-night, the poor lad, all 
unused to kindness, fairly burst into tears, which all his 
dawning manhood could not restrain. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE TKACES. 

Oh, if I were an eagle to soar into the sky, 

I’d gaze around with piercing eye when I my love might spy.” 

The second-best coach, which resided at Bowstead, the 
same which had carried Aurelia oft* from Knightsbridge, had 
brought Sir Amyas Belamour to Carminster — an effemi- 
nate proceeding of which he was rather ashamed, though 
clearly he could not have ridden, and he had hoped to have 
brought his bride back in it. 

There was plenty of room in it to take back the major, 
Betty, and even Eugene, since he could not well have been 
left without his sister or Palmer, who was indispensable to 
the major. He was so enchanted at ‘‘ riding in a coach, 
and going perhaps to see London, that he did not trouble 
himself much about Sister Aurelia being lost, and was in 
such high spirits as to be best disposed of outside, between 
Palmer and Gray, where he could at his ease contemplate 
the horses, generally four in number, though at some 
stages only two could be procured, and then at an extra 
steep hill a farmer's horses from the hay-field would be 
hitched on in fropt. Luckily there was no lack of nfoney; 
Mr. Belamour and Hargrave had taken care that Sir Amy- 
as should be amply supplied, and thus the journey was as 


184 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


rapid as posting could be in those days of insufficient inns, 
worse roads, and necessary precautions against highway- 
men. 

The road was not the same as that which the young 
baronet had come down by, as it was thought better to take 
the chance of meeting a different stage wagon. Sir Amyas 
and his servant having, of course, examined the one they 
had overtaken in coming down. At every possible resting- 
place on the route was inquiry made, but all in vain; no 
one had seen such a young gentlewoman as was described, 
or if some answer inspired hope for a moment, it was dashed 
again at once. The young gentlewoman once turned out 
to be the squire's fat lady, and another time was actually 
pursued into a troop of strolling players, attiring them- 
selves in a barn, whence she came with cheeks freshly 
rouged with blood taken from a cat's tail. 

The young baronet had meanwhile become very dear to 
the major and his daughter. He had inherited his moth* 
er's indescribable attractiveness, and he was so frank, so 
affectionate, so unspoiled, so grateful for the little atten- 
tions demanded by his maimed condition, so considerate of 
the major, and so regardless of himself, and, above all, so 
passionately devoted to his dearest life, as he called Aurelia, 
that it was impossible not to take him into their hearts, 
and let him be, as he entreated, a son and a brother. 

The travelers decided on first repairing to Bowstead, 
thinking it probable that the truant might have returned 
thither, or that Mr. Belamour might have found her in 
some one of the- cottages around. Hopes began to rise, 
and Major Helavie scolded Sir Amyas in quite a paternal 
manner whenever he began to despond, though the parts 
were reversed whenever the young people's expectations 
be^an to soar beyond his own spirits at the moment. 

‘ Is yonder Hargrave? No, it is almost like my father!" 
exclaimed Sir Amyas, in amazement, as the coach lumbered 
slowly up the approach, and a very remarkable figure was 
before them. The long white beard was gone, the hair was 
brushed back, tied up, and the ends disposed of in a square 
black silk bag, hanging down behind; and the dark gray 
coat, with collar and deep cuffs of black velvet, was such as 
would be the ordinary wear of an elderly, man of good posi- 
tion; but the face, a fine aquiline one, as to feature, was of 
prefectly absolute wliiteness, scarcely relieved by the thin, 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


185 


pale lips, or the eyes, which, naturally of a light-gray, had 
become almost as colorless as the rest of the face; and 
Betty felt a shock as if she had seen a marble statue clothed 
and animated, bowing and speaking. 

The anxious inquiry and the mournful negative had been 
mutually exchanged before the carriage door was opened, 
and all were standing together in the avenue. 

“ I have, however, found a clew, or whafc may so prove,^^ 
said Mr. Belamour, when the greetings had passed. ‘‘ I 
have discovered how our fugitive passed the early part of 
the Sunday;’^ and he related how he had elicited from the 
Mistresses Treforth that they had seen her and driven her 
away with contumely. 

Sir Amyas and the major were not sparing of interjec- 
tions, and the former hoped that liis uncle had told them 
what they deserved. 

‘‘ Thereby only incurring the more compassion,^ ^ said 
Mr. Belamour, dryly, and going on to say tJiat he had ex- 
tended his inquiries to Sedhurst, and had heard of her visit 
to Dame Wheatfield; also, that the good woman, going to 
seek her at the church, had found only the basket with the 
guineas in the paper. She had regarded this merely as a 
wrapper, and, being unable to read, had never noticed the 
writing, but she had fortunately preserved it, and Mr. Bela- 
mour thus learned Aurelia^ s intention of throwing herself 
on Lady Belamour ^s mercy. 

‘‘ My mother utterly denied all knowledge of her, when 
I cried out to her in anguish when she came to see me!^’ 
said Sir Amyas. 

‘‘ So she does to Hargrave, whom she sent off to interro- 
gate Mrs. Arden, said Mr. Belamour. 

“ Have you any reason to think the child could have 
reached my lady?'"’ inquired Betty, seeing that none of the 
gentlemen regarded my lady ^s denials as making anydiifer- 
ence to their belief, though not one of them chose to say so. 

‘‘ Merely negative evidence,^'’ said Mr. Belamour. “ I 
find that no one in the house actually beheld the departure 
of my lady on that Sunday afternoon. The little girls bad 
been found troublesome, and sent out into the park with 
Molly, ^nd my nephew was giving full employment to 
Jumbo and Mrs. Aylward in my room. The groom, who 
was at the horses’ heads, once averred that he saw two 
women get into the carriage besides her ladyship; but he 


18G 


LOVE ANT) LIFE. 


is such a sodden confused fellow, and so contradicts him- 
self, that I can make nothing of him. ^ 

“ He would surely know his young mistress,^'’ said Sir 
Amy as. 

Perhaps not in the camlet hood, which Dame Wheat- 
field says she wore. 

Was good old Dove acting as coach man said Betty. 
‘‘ We should learn something from him.^^ 

‘‘ It was not her own coach. said Mr. Belamour. “ All 
the servants were . strangers, the liveries sanguine, and tlie 
panels painted with helmets and trophies. 

Mar%^^ said Sir Amyas, low and bitterly. 

I guessed as much,^^ said his uncle. “ It was proba- 
bly chosen on purpose, if the child has friends in y^ur own 
household. ^ ^ 

Then I must demand her,^’ said the major. She 
can not be denied to her father. 

At any rate we must go to town' to-morrow, said Mr. 
Belamour. “We have done all we can here. 

“Let us send for horses and go on at once,^'’ cried Sir 
Amyas. 

“Not so fast, nephew. I see, by her face, that Miss 
Delavie does not approve", though our side of the town is 
safer than Hounslow. 

“ I was not thinking of highwaymen, sir, but we set 
forth at five this morning, and Sir Amyas always becomes 
fiushed and feverish if he is over-fatigued; nor is my father 
so strong as he was. 

“ Ah, ha! young sir, in adopting Betty for a sister you 
find you have adopted a quartermaster-general, eh?'’^ said 
the major; “but she is quite right. We should not get to 
town before ten or eleven at night, and what good would 
that do? No, no, let us sup and have a good night’s rest, 
and we will drive into town long enough before fine ladies 
are astir in the morning, whatever may be the fashionable 
hour nowadays.” 

“ Yes, nephew, you must content yourself with acting 
host to your father and sister-in-law in your own house,” 
said his uncle. 

“It seems to me more like yours, sir,” rejoined the 
youth; but at the hall door, with all his native grace, he 
turned and gave his welcome, kissing Betty on the cheek 
with the grave ceremony of the host, and lamenting, poor 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 187 

fellow, that he stood alone without his sweet bride to re- 
ceive them. 

‘‘ Is that Jumbo asked Betty. ‘‘ I must thank hi m 
for all his kind service to my dear sister. 

Faithful Jumbo fairly wept when — infinite condescension 
for those days — Major Delavie shook hands with him and 
thanked him. 

If pretty Missie Madame were hut safe and well, Jum- 
bo would wish no more,^’’ he sobbed out. 

“ Poor Jumbo,^^ said Mr. Belamour, he has never been 
the same man since pretty Missie Madame has been lost. I 
hear his violin mourning for her till it is enough to break 
one^s heart 

However Eugene created diversion by curious inquiries 
whether Jumbo would indeed play the fiddle of which he 
had heard from Archer and Amoret, and he ran off most 
eagerly after the negro to be introduced to the various 
curiosities of the place. 

Mrs. Aylward attended Miss Delavie to her room, and 
showed herself much softened. As a good, conscientious 
woman, she felt that she had acted a selfish pai-t toward the 
lonely maiden, and Betty^s confident belief that she had 
been a kind friend was a keen reproach. 

‘‘ Indeed, madame,’"’ she said, ‘‘ I would lief you could 
truly call me such, but when young miss came here first I 
took her for one of that flighty sort that it is wise not to 
meddle with more than needful. I have kept my place 
here these thirty years by never making or meddling, and 
knowing nothing about what don'^t concern me, and is out 
of my province. E'ow, I wish I had let the poor young 
lady be more friendly with me, for may be I could have been 
of use to her in her need.’’' 

‘‘ You had no suspicion 

‘‘ No, ma^am; though I find there were those who sus- 
pected some one came up here disguised as Jumbo; but I 
was never one to lend an ear to gossip, and by that time I 
trusted the dear young lady altogether, and knew she would 
never knowingly do aught that was unbecoming her sta- 
tion, or her religion. 

I am glad the dear child won your good opinion, said 
Betty. 

‘‘ Indeed, 'ma^am, that you may say,^^ returned Mrs. 
Aylward, whom anxiety had made confidential; ‘‘ for I 


188 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


own I was prejudiced against her from the first, as, if 
ydu^ll excuse me, ma’am, all we Bowstead people are apt 
to be set against whatever comes from my lady’s side. 
However, one must have been made of the nether mill- 
stone not to feel the difference she made in the house. She 
was the very life of it with her pretty ways, singing and 
playing with the children, and rousing up the poor gentle- 
man too that had lived just like a mere heathen in a dun- 
geon, and wouldn’t so much as hear a godly word in his 
despair. And now he has a minister once a fortnight to 
read prayers, and is quite another man — all through that 
blessed young lady, who has brought him back to light and 
life. ” And as Betty’s tears flowed at this testimony to 
her sister, the housekeeper added, ‘‘ Never you fear, 
ma’am; she is one of God’s innocents, and His hand will 
be over her.” 

Meantime, having dismissed the young lover to take, if 
he could, a much needed night’s rest, the major was listen- 
ing to Mr. Belamour’s confession. “ I was the most to 
blame, inasmuch as an old fool is worse than a young one; 
and I would that the penalty fell on me alone. ” 

If she be in my cousin’s hands I can not believe that 
she will permit any harm to befall her,” said the good 
major, still clinging to his faith in Urania — the child he 
had taught to ride, and with whom he had danced her first 
minuet. 

“ What I dread most is her being forced into some low 
marriage,” said Mr. Belamour. ‘‘ The poor child’s faith 
in the ceremony that passed must have been overthrown, 
and who can tell what she maybe induced to accept?” 

‘‘ It was that threat which moved you?” said the major. 

“ Yes. Hargrave assured me that my lady had actually 
offered her to him, with a bribe of a farm on easy terms; 
and when she found that he had other intentions, there 
seemed to be some broken-down sycophant of Mar’s upon 
the cards, but of course I was preferable, both because my 
fair sister-in-law has some liugering respect for the honor 
of her own blood, and because the bar between Aurelia and 
my nephew would be perpetual. I knew likewise that it 
was my brother’s earnest desire that a match should take 
place between your children and his.” 

“ He did me too much honor. The lad showed me the 
extract from his letter,” 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


189 


‘‘ I could not give him the whole. It was fit for no eyes 
but mine; who had so long neglected it, and barely under- 
stood that it existed. My poor brother's eyes were fully 
opened to his wife's character, and even while he loved her 
to distraction, and yielded to her fascinating mastery 
against his better judgment, he left me the charge of try- 
ing in some degree to repair the injustice he believed you to 
be suffering, and of counteracting evil influences on her 
son." 

“ That seems at least to have been done." 

“ By no efforts of mine; but because the boy was happily 
permitted to remain with the worthy tutor his father had 
chosen for him, and because Wayland is an excellent man, 
wise and prudent in all things save in being bewitched by 
a fair face. Would that he were returned! When I first 
consented to act this fool's part, I trusted that he would 
have been at home soon enough to prevent more than the 
nominal engagement, and when my lady's threats rendered 
it needful to secure the poor child by giving her my name, 
I still expected him before my young gentleman should 
utterly betray himself by his warmth." 

‘ He tells me that he has written." 

“ True. On that I insisted, and I am the more uneasy, 
for there has been ample time for a reply. It is only too 
likely, from what my nephew tells me of his venturesome 
explorations, that he may have fallen into the hands of the 
Moorish corsairs! Hargrave says it is rumored; but my 
lady will not be checked in her career of pleasure, and if 
she is fearful of his return, she may precipitate matters 
with the poor girl!" 

Come, come, sir, I can not have you give way to de- 
spondency. You did your best, and if it did not succeed, 
it was owing to my foolish daughter Arden. Why, if she 
was not satisfied about her sister, could she not have come 
here, and demanded an explanation? That would have 
been the straightforward way!" 

‘‘ Would that she had! Or would that I had sooner dis- 
covered my own entire recovery, which I owe in very truth 
to the sweet being who has brought new life alike of body 
and mind to me, and who must think I have requited her 
so cruelly." 


190 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


CHAPTER XXVIL 

CYTHEREA^S BOWER. 

There Citherea goddesse was and qnene, 

Honourid highly for her majeste, 

And eke her sonne, the mighty god I weene, 

Cupid the blinde, that for his dignity 
A M lovers worshipp on ther kue. 

There was I bid on pain of dethe to pere, 

By Mercury, the winged messengere. 

Chaucer. 

By twelve o'clock on the ensuing day Mr. Belamour, 
with Eugene and Jumbo, was set down at a hotel near 
Whitehall, to secure apartments, while the major went on 
to demand his daughter from Lady Belamour, taking with 
him Betty, whom he allowed to be a much better match 
for my lady than he could be. Very little faith in his 
cousin .Urania remained to him in the abstract, yet even 
now he could not he sure that she would not talk him over 
and hoodwink him in any actual encounter. Sir Amyas 
likewise accompanied him, both to gratify his own anxiety 
and to secure admission. The young man still looked pale 
and worn with restless anxiety; but he had, in spite of re- 
monstrances, that morning discarded his sling, saying that 
he should return to his quarters. Let his colonel do his 
worst there; he had still more liberty than if compelled 
to return to his mother's house. 

Lady Belamour had, on her second marriage, forsaken 
her own old hereditary mansion in the Strand, where Sir 
J ovian had died, and which, she said, gave her the vapors. 
Mr. Wayland, whose wealth far exceeded her own, had 
purchased one of the new houses in Hanover Square, the 
fashionable quarter and ve^ much admired; but the major 
regretted the gloomy dignity of the separate inclosure and 
walled court of Delavie House, whereas the new one, in 
modern fashion, had only an area and steps between the 
front and the pavement. 

The hall door stood wide open, with a stately porter 
within, and lackeys planted about at intervals. Grey de- 
scended from the box, and after some inquiry, brought word 
that ‘‘ her ladyship was at breakfast," then, at a sign from 


LOVE AN^D LIFE. 


191 


his master, opened the carriage door. Sir Amyas, taking 
Betty by the tips of her fingers, led her forward, receiving 
by the way greetings and inquiries from the servants, 
whose countenances showed him to be a welcome arrival. 

‘‘Is it a reception day, Maine he asked of a kind of 
major-domo whom he met on the top of the broad stairs. 

“ No, your honor. 

“ Is company with her ladyship 

“ No, not company, sir,^^ with a certain hesitation, 
which damped Betty ^s satisfaction m the first assurance. 

What did she see as Maine opened the door? It was a 
very spacious bedroom, the bed in an alcove hung with 
rose-colored satin embroidered with myrtles and white 
roses, looped up with lace and muslin. Like draperies 
hung round the window, fluted silk lined the room, 
and beautiful japanned and inlaid cabinets and etageres 
adorned the walls, bearing all varieties and devices of new 
and old porcelain from China, Sevres, Dresden, or Worces- 
ter, together with Moorish and Spanish curiosities, tokens 
of Mr. Wayland^’s travels. There was a toilet-table before 
one window, covered with lacquer-ware, silver and ivory 
boxes, and other apparatus, and an exquisite Venetian 
mirror with the borders of frost >d silver work. 

Not far off, but sideways to it, sat Lady Belamour in a 
loose sack of some rich striped silk, in crimson and blue 
stripes shot with gold threads. Slippers, embroidered with 
gold, showed off her dainty feet, and a IVench hair-dresser 
stood behind her chair putting the finishing touches to the 
imposing fabric of powder, flowers and feathers, upon her 
he^. A little hand-mirror, framed in carved ivory inlaid 
with coral, and a fan, lay on a tiny spindle-legged table 
close in front of her, together with a buff-colored cup of 
chocolate. At a somewhat larger table Mrs. Loveday, 
her woman, was dispensing the chocolate, whilst a little 
negro boy, in a fantastic Oriental costume, waited to carry 
the cups about. 

On a sofa near at hand, in an easy attitude, reclined 
Colonel Mar, holding out to Lady Belamour a snuff-box of 
tortoise-shell and gold, and a lady sat near on one of the 
tall black-and-gold chairs drinking chocolate, while all 
were giving their opinions on the laces, feathers, ribbons, 
and trinkets which another Frenchman was displaying 
from a basket-box placed on the floor, trying to keep aloof 


192 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


a little Maltese lion-dog, which had been roused from its 
cushion, and had come to inspect his wares. A little fur- 
ther off. Archer, in a blue velvet coat,* white satin waist- 
coat, and breeches and silk stockings, and Amoret, white- 
f rocked, blue- sashed, and bare-he^ed (an innovation of 
fashion), were admiring the nodding mandarins, grinning 
nondescript monsters, and green lions of extraordinary 
form which an emissary from a curiosity-shop was unpack- 
ing. Near the door, in an attitude weary yet obsequious, 
stood, paper in hand, a dejected figure in shabby plum-color 
— i.e., a poor author — waiting in hopes that his sonnet in 
praise of Cytherea^s triumphant charms would win him the 
guinea he so sorely needed, as 

“ To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, 

And heap the shrine of luxury and pride 
With incense kindled at the Muses’ flame.” 

The scene was completed by a blue and yellow macaw at 
one window chained to his perch, and a green monkey 
tethered in like manner at the other. 

Of course Elizabeth Delavie did not perceive all these 
details at once. Her first sensation was the shock to the 
decorum of a modest English lady at intruding into a bed- 
room; but her foreign recollections coming to her aid, she 
accepted the fashion with one momentary feminine review 
of her own appearance, and relief that she had changed 
her traveling gear for her Sunday silks, and made her 
father put on his full uniform. All this passed while Sir 
Amyas was leading her into the room, steering her care- 
fully out of the monkey’s reach. Then he went a step or 
two forward and bent before his mother, almost touching 
the ground with one knee, as he kissed her hand, and ris- 
ing, acknowledged the lady with a circular sweep of his 
hat, and his colonel with a militaiy salute, all rapidly, but 
with perfect ease and gracefulness. “ Ah! my truant, my 
rmiaway invalid!” said Lady Belamour, “ you are come to 
surrender.” 

“lam come,” he said gravely, holding out his stronger 
hand to his little brother and sister, who sprung to liim, 
“ to bring my father and sister-in-law. Major and Miss 
Delavie. ” 

“Ah! my good cousin, my excellent Mrs. Bett}^, excuse 
me that my tyrant friseur prevents my rising to welcome 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


193 


you. It is so good and friendly in you to come in this in- 
formal way to cheer me under this terrible anxiety. Let 
me present you to my kind friend, the Countess of Ares- 
field, who has been so good as to come in to-day to sustain 
my spirits. Colonel Mar you know already. Pray be 
seated. Amyas — Archer — chairs. Let Syphax give you a 
cup of chocolate. 

‘ Madame-/^ said the major, disregarding all this, and 
standing as if on parade, ‘‘ can I see you alone? My busi- 
ness is urgent.^-’ 

‘‘No evil news, I trust! I have undergone such fright- 
ful shocks of late, my constitution is well-nigh ruined.'’'’ 

“ It is I that have to ask news of you, madame.'’^ 

She saw that, if she trifled with him, something would 
break out that she would not wish have said publicly. 
“ My time is so little my own,'’^ she said, “ I am under 
command to be at the palace by two o^clock, but in a few 
minutes I shall be able to dismiss my tormentor, and then, 
till my woman comes to dress me, I shall be at' your serv- 
ice. Sit down, I entreat, and take some chocolate. I 
know Mrs. Betty is an excellent housekeeper, and I want 
her opinion. My dear Liidy Aresfield, suffer me to intro- 
duce my estimable cousin, Mrs. Betty Delavie.’’^ 

The countess, looking, in her feathers and powder, like 
a beet-root in white sauce, favored Betty with a broad stare. 
Vulgarity was very vulgar in those days, especially when 
it had purchased rank, and thought manners might be dis- 
pensed with. Betty sat down, and Amoret climbed on her 
lap, while a diversion was made by Archer^s imperious en- 
treaty that his mamma would purchase a mandarin who 
not only nodded, but waved his hands and protruded his 
tongue. 

Then ensued what seemed, to the sickening suspense of 
the two Delavies, a senseless Babel of tongues on all sides; 
but it ended in the friseur putting up his implements, the 
tradesfolk leaving the selected goods unpaid for, and the 
poor poet bowing himself within reach of the monkey, who 
made a clutch at his MS., chattered over it, and tore it into 
fragments. There was a peal of mirth — loudest from Lady 
Aresfield — but Sir Amyas sprung forward with gentlemanly 
regrets, apologies, and excuses, finally opening the door 
and following the poor man out of the room to administer 
the guinea from his own pocket, while Colonel Mar ex- 


194 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


claimed, Here, Archer, boy, run after him with this. 
The poor devil has won it by producing a smile from those 
divine lips — such as his jingle might never have done — 

“ Fy! fy! Mar,^^ said the lady, shaking her fan at him, 
“ the child will repeat it to him.'’'’ 

“ The better sport if he do,^^ said Colonel Mar, care- 
lessly; “ he may term himself a very Orpheus charming 
the beasts, so that they snatch his poems from him!^-’ 

Then, as Sir Amyas returned. Lady Belamour entreated 
her dear countess to allow him to conduct her to the with- 
drawing room, and there endeavor to entertain her. The 
colonel could not but follow, and the major and Betty 
found themselves at length alone with her ladyship. 

“ I trust you have come to relieve my mind as to our 
poor runaway,^-’ she began. 

“ Would to Heaven I could said the major. 

“ Good Heavens! Then she has never reached you!” 

“ Certainly not. 

“ Nor her sister? Oh, surely she is with her sister!” 

“No, madame, her sister knows nothing of her. Cousin, 
you have children of your own ! I entreat of you to tell me 
what you have done with her.^^ 

“ How should I have done anything with her? I who 
have been feeding all this time on the assurance that she 
had returned to you."’^ 

“ How could a child like her do so?” ■ 

“We know she had money,” said Lady Belamour. 

“And we know,” said Betty, fixing her eyes on the 
lady; ‘ ‘ that though she escaped, on the first alarm, as far 
as Sedhurst, and was there seen, she had decided on re- 
turning to Bowstead and giving herself up to your lady- 
ship).” 

“ Indeed? At what time was that?” exclaimed my 
lady. 

“ Some time in the afternoon of Sunday!” 

“Ah! then I must have left Bowstead. I was pledged 
to her majesty^s card-table, and royal commands can not 
be disregarded, so I had to go away in grievous anxiety for 
my poor boy. She meant to return to Bowstead, did she? 
Ah! Does not an idea strike you that old Amyas Belamour 
may know more than he confesses? He has been playing a 
double game throughout.” 


LOVE AED LIFE. 


195 


He is as anxious to find tlie dear girl as we are, 
madame.^’ 

“ So lie may seem to you and to my poor infatuated boy, 
but you see those crazed persons are full of strange devices 
and secrets, as indeed we have already experienced. I see 
what you would say; he may appear sane and plausible 
enough to a stranger, but to those who have known him 
ever since his misfortunes, the truth is but too plain. He 
was harmless enough as long as he was content to remain 
secluded in his dark chamber, but now that I hear he has 
broken loose. Heaven knows what mischief he may do. 
My dear cousin Helavie, you are the prop left to me in 
these troubles, witli my poor good man in the hands of 
those cruel pirates, who may be making him work in 
chains for all I know, and the tears came into her beauti- 
ful e3^es. 

“ They will not do that,^^ said Major Delavie, eager to 
reassure her; “ I have heard enough of their tricks to know 
that they keep such game as he most carefully till they can 
get a ransom. 

You are sure of that?^^ 

“ Perfectly. I met an Italian fellow at Vienna who told 
me how it was all managed by the Genoese bankers. 

‘‘Ah! I was just thinking that you would be the only 
person who could be of use — ^you who know foreign lan- 
guages and all their ways. If you could go abroS, and 
arrange it for me 

If my daughter were restored — began the major. 

“ I see what you would say, and I am convinced that the 
first step toward the discovery would be to put Mr. Eela- 
mour under restraint, and separate his black from him. 
Then one or other of them would speak, and we might 
know how she has been played upon.^^ 

“ What does your ladyship suppose then?” asked the 
major. 

“ This is what I imagine. The poor silly maid repents 
herself and comes back in search of me. Would that she 
had found me, her best friend! But instead of that, she 
falls in with old Belamour, and he, having by this tinie 
perceived the danger of the perilous masquerade in which 
he had involved my unlucky boy, a minor, has mewed her 
up somewhere, till the cry should be over. 


196 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


That would be the part of a villain, but scarcely of a 
madman/^ said. Betty dryly. 

‘‘ My dear cousin Betty, there are lunatics endowed with 
a marvelous shrewdness to commit senseless villainies, and 
to put on a specious seeming. Depend upon it, my un- 
fortunate brother-in-law ^s wanderings at night were not 
solely spent in communings with the trees and brooks. 
Who knows what might be discovered if he were under 
proper restraint? And it is to you, the only relation I 
have, that I must turn for assistance in my most unhappy 
circumstances,^^ she added, with a glance so full of sweet 
helplessness that no man could withstand it. “I am so 
glad you are here. ‘ You will be acting for me as well as 
for yourself in endeavoring to find your poor lovely child, 
and the first thing I would have done would be to separate 
Bel amour and his black, put them under restraint, and 
interrogate them separately. You could easily get an 
order from a magistrate. But ah, here comes my woman. 
No more now. You will come to me this evening, and we 
can talk further on this matter. I shall have some com- 
pany, and it will not be a regular rout, only a few card- 
tables, and a little dancing for the young people. 

‘‘ Your ladyship must excuse me, said Betty, ‘‘ I have 
no dress to appear in, even if I had spirits for company. " 

“ Ah! my dear cousin, how do you think it is with my 
spirits? Yet I think it my duty not to allow myself to be 
moped, but to exert myself for the interest of my son. 
While as to dress, my woman can direct you to a milliner 
who would equip you in the last mode. What, still ob- 
stinate? Nay, then, Harry, I can take no excuse from 
you, and I may have been able to collect some intelligence 
from the servants. 

Nothing remained but to take leave and walk home, the 
major observing — 

“ Well, what think you of that, Betty?” 

“ Think, sir? I think it is not for my lady to talk of vil- 
lains. 

“ She is in absolute error respecting Belamour; but then 
she has not seen him , since his recovery. AVomen are prone 
to those fancies, and in her unprotected state, poor thing, 
no wonder she takes alarms. 

“ I should have thought her rather overprotected. 

“Now, Betty, you need not take a leaf out of Mrs. 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


197 


Duckworfch^s book, and begin to be censorious. You saw 
how relieved she was to have me, her own blood relation, 
to turn to, instead of that empty braggart of a fellow. 
Besides, a man does not bring his step-mother when there^’s 
anything amiss. 

There was something in this argument, and Betty held 
her peace, knowing that to censure my lady only incited 
her father to defend her. 

For her own part her consternation was great, and she 
walked on in silence, only speaking again to acquiesce in 
her father^s observation that they must say nothing to Mr. 
Belamour of my lady’s plans for his seclusion. 

They found Mr. Belamour in the square parlor of the 
Eoyal York, having sent Eugene out for a walk with 
Jumbo. The boy^s return in the most eager state of ex- 
citement at the shops, the horses, sedans, and other won- 
ders, did something, together with dinner, to while away 
the weary time till, about three hours after the major and 
his daughter had returned, they were joined by the young 
baronet, who came running up the stairs with a good deal 
more impetuosity than he would have permitted liimself at 
home. 

“ At last I have escaped, he said. “ I fear you have 
waited long for me?^^ 

“ I have been hoping you had discovered some indica- 
tions,^^ said the major. 

‘‘Alas, no! I should imagine my lady as ignorant as 
we are, save for one thing. 

“ And that was — ?” 

“ The pains that were taken to prevent my speaking 
with any of the servants. I was forced to attend on that 
harridan. Lady Aresfield, till my mother sent for me; and 
then she made Mar absolutely watch me off the premises. 
Then I had to go and report myself at head -quarters, and 
see the surgeon, so that there may be no color of irregu- 
larity for the colonel to take advantage of. 

“ Right, right!” said the major; “ do not let him get a 
handle against you, though I should not call you fit for 
duty yet, even for holiday- work like yours. 

‘‘You still suspect that your mother knows where our 
Aurelia is?” said Betty. “ When I think of her de- 
meanor, I can hardly believe it! But did you hear noth- 
ing of your little sisters?” 


198 


LOVE AKD . LIFE. 


“ I did not ask. In truth I was confounded by a pro- 
posal that was made to me. If I will immediately marry 
my mother’s darling, Lady Belle, I may have leave of ab- 
senee from her and my regiment, both at once, and go to 
meet Mr. Wayland if I like, or at any rate make the grand 
tour, while they try to break in my charming bride for me. 
Of course I said that, being a married man, nothing should 
induce me to break the law, nor to put any lady in such a 
position; and equally, of course, I was shown a lawyer’s 
opinion that the transaction was invalid. ’ ’ 

“ As I always believed,” said his uncle. The cere- 
mony must be repeated when we find her; though even if 
you were willing, the other parties are very ill-advised to 
press for a marriage without judgment first being delivered 
how far the present is binding. So she wants to send you 
off on your travels, does she?” 

“ She wishes me to go and arrange for her husband’s 
ransom,” said the major. ‘‘I would be ready enough 
were my child only found, but I believe Government would 
take it up, he being on his majesty’s service. ” 

“ It is a mere device for disposing of you — yes, and of 
my nephew too,” said Mr. Belamour. “ As for me, we 
know already her kind plans for putting me out of reach 
of interference. I see, she communicated them to you. 
Did she ask your co-operation, major? Ah! certainly, an 
ingenious plan for disuniting us. I am the more convinced 
that she is well aware of where the poor child is, and that 
she wishes to be speedy in her measures. ” 

There is no need to describe the half -frantic vehemence 
of the young lover, nor the way in which the father and 
sister tried to moderate his transports, though no less 
wretched themselves. 


CHAPTEE XXVIIL 

THE ROUT. 

Great troups of people traveled thitherward 
Both day and night, of each degree and place. 

Spenser. 

Much against their will. Major Delavie and his soi-disant 
sondn-law set forth for Lady Belamour ’s entertainment, 
thinking no opportunity of collecting intelligence was to be 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


199 


despised; while she probably wished to obviate all reports 
of a misunderstanding as well as to keep them under her 
own eye. 

The reception-rooms were less adorned than the lady^s 
private apartment. There were pictures on the walls, and 
long ranks of chairs ranged round, and card-tables were set 
out in order. The ladies sat in rows, and the gentlemen 
stood in knots and talked, all in full dress, resplendent fig- 
ures in brilliant velvet, gold lace, and embroidery, with 
swords by their sides, cocked hats, edged with gold or silver 
lace, under their arms, and gemmed shoe-buckles. The 
order of creation was not yet reversed; the male creature 
was quite as gorgeous in color and ornament as the female, 
who sat in her brocade, powder and patches, fan in hand, 
to receive the homage of his smrff-box. 

Sir Amyas went the round, giving and returning greet- 
ings, which were bestowed on him with an ardor sufficient 
to prove that he was a general favorite. His mother, ex- 
quisitely dressed in a rich rose-colored velvet train, over a 
creamy satin petticoat, both exquisitely embroidered, sailed 
up with a cordial greeting to her good cousin, and wanted 
to set him down to loo or ombre; but the veteran knew too 
well what the play in her house was, and saw, moreover. 
Lady Aresfield sitting like a harpy before the green baize 
field of her spoils. While he was refusing, Sir Amyas re- 
turned to him, saying, Sir, here is a gentleman whom I 
think you must have known in Flanders;^ ^ and the major 
found himself shaking hands with an old comrade. Save 
for his heavy heart, he would have been extremely happy 
.in the ensuing conversation. 

In the meantime Lady Belamour turned toward a 
stout, clumsy, short girl, her intensely red cheeks and huge 
black e3^es staring out of her powder, while the extreme 
costliness of her crimson satin dress, and profusion of her 
rubies were ridiculous on the unformed person of a creat- 
ure scarcely fifteen. If she had been any one else she 
would have been a hideous spectacle in the eyes of the ex- 
quisitely tasteful Lady Belamour, who, detecting the ex- 
pression in her son^s eye, whispered behind her fan, “We 
will soon set all that right then aloud, “ My son can 
not recover from his surprise. He did not imagine that we 
could steal you for an evening from Queen ^s Square to pro- 
cure him this delight. Then as Sir Amyas bowed, “ The 


200 


LOVE AND LIFE, 


Yellow Room is cleared for dancing. Lady Belle will fa- 
vor you, Amyas. 

‘‘You must excuse me, madame,^^ he said; “I have 
not yet the free use of my arm, and could not acquit my- 
self properly in a minuet. 

“I hate minuets, returned Lady Belle; “the very 
notion gives me the spleen. 

“ Ah, pretty heretic!'’^ said my lady, making a playful 
gesture with her fan at the peony-colored cheek. “ I 
meant this wounded knight to have converted you, but he 
must amuse you otherwise. What, my lord, I thought 
you knew I never meant to dance again. Can not you open 
the dance without me? I, who have no spirits 

The rest was lost as she sailed away on the arm of a gen- 
tleman in a turquois-colored coat, and waistcoat embroid- 
ered with gillyflowers; leaving the Lady Arabella on the 
hands of her son, who, neither as host nor gentleman, 
could escape, until the young lady had found some other 
companion. He stiffly and wearily addressed to her the 
inquiry how she liked London. 

“ I should like it monstrously if I were not moped up in 
school,^'’ she answered. “ So you have come back. How 
did you hurt your arm?^^ she said, in the most provincial 
of dialects. 

“ In the fire, madame.” 

“ What? In snatching your inamorata from the flames?'^ 

“Not precisely,^’ he said. 

“ Come, now, tell me; did she set the room a-fire?” de- 
manded the young lady, “ Oh, you need not think to de- 
ceive me. My brother Mar^s coachman told my mammals 
woman all about it, and how she was locked up and ran 
away; but they have her fast enough now, after all her 
tricks!^" 

“ Who have? Bor pity^s sake tell me, Lady Belle 

Loving to tease, she exclaimed: “ There, now, what a 
work to make about a white-faced little rustic 

“ Your ladyship has not seen her. 

“ Have I not, though? I donH admire your taste. 

“ Is she in QueeiTs Square?’^ 

“ Do not you wish me to tell you where you can find your 
old faded doll, with a waist just like a wasp, and an old 
blue sack — not a bit of powder in her hair?^^ 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 201 

Lady Belle^ if you would have me forever beholden to 
you — 

“ The cap fits/^ she cried, clapping her hands. ‘‘Not 
a word to say for her! I would not have such a beau for 
the world. 

“ When I have found her it will be time to defend her 
beauty! If your ladyship would only tell me where she is, 
you know not what gratitude I should feel!^' 

“ I dare say, but that^s my secret. My mamma and 
yours would be ready to kill me with rage if they knew I 
had let out even so much.^^ 

“ They would soon forgive you. Come, Lady Belle, 
think of her brave old father^ and give some clew to find- 
ing her. Where is she?’^ 

“ Ah! where you will never get at her!^^ 

“ Is she at Queen ^s Square 

“ What would you do if you thought she was? Get a 
constable and come and search? Oh, what a rage madame 
would be in! Goodness me, what sport !^^ and she fell back 
in a violent giggling fit; but the two matrons were so de- 
lighted to see the young people talking to one another, that 
there was no attempt to repress her. Sir Amyas made an- 
other attempt to elicit whether Aurelia were really at the 
school in Queen ^s Square, but Lady Arabella still refused 
to answer directly. Then he tried the expedient of declar- 
ing that she was only trying to tease him, and had not 
really seen the lady. He pretended not to believe her, but 
when she insisted, “ Hair just the color of Lady Bela- 
mour^s,^^ his incredulity vanished; but on liis next en- 
treaty, she put on a sly look imitated from the evil world 
in which she lived, and declared she should not encourage 
naughty doings. The youth, who, though four years older, 
was by far the more simple and innocent of the two, replied 
with great gravity, “It is the Lady Belamour, my own 
wife, that I am seeking. 

“ That^s just the nonsense she talks!" 

“ For Heaven^s sake, what did she say?^^ 

But Belle was tired of her game, and threw herself bois- 
terously on a young lady who had the “ sweetest enamel 
necklace in the world, and whose ornaments she began to 
handle and admire in true spoiled-child fashion. 

Sir Amyas then betook himself to •the major, who saw 
at once by his eye and step that something was gained. 


202 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


They took leave together. Lady Belamour making a hur- 
ried lamentation that she had seen so little of her dear 
cousin, but accepting her son^s excuse that he must return 
to his quarters; and they walked away together escorted by 
Palmer and Grey, as well as by two link-boys, summer 
night though it was. 

Sir Amyas repaired first to the hotel, where Mr. Bela- 
mour and Betty were still sitting, for even the fashionable 
world kept comparatively early hours, and it was not yet 
eleven o^clock. The parlor where they sat was nearly 
dark, one candle out and the other shaded so as to produce 
the dimness which Mr. Belamour still preferred, and they 
were sitting on either side of .the open window, Betty list- 
ening to her companion's reminiscences of the evenings 
enlivened by poor Aurelia, and of the many traits of her 
goodness, sweet temper, and intelligence which he had 
stored up in his mind. He had, he said, already learned 
through her to know Miss Helavie, and he declared that 
the voices of the sisters were so much alike that he coidd 
have believed himself at Bowstead with the gentle visitor 
who had brought him new life. 

The tidings of Lady Arabella's secret were eagerly list- 
ened to, and the token of the mouse-colored hair was ac- 
cepted; Sir Amyas comjiaring, to every one^s satisfaction, 
a certain lock that he bore on a chain next his heart, and 
a little knot, surrounded with diamonds, in a ring, which 
he had been still wearing from force of habit, though he 
declared he should never endure to do so again. 

It was evident that Lady Belle had really seen Aurelia;, 
and where could that have been save at the famous board- 
ing-school in Queen^s Square, where the daughters of “ the 
great ” were trained in the accomplishments of the day? 
The major, with rising hopes, declared that he had always, 
maintained that his cousin meant no ill by his daughter, 
and though it had been cruel, not to say worse, in her, to 
deny all knowledge of the fugitive, yet women would have, 
their strange ways. 

“ That is very hard on us women, sir,^^ said Betty. 

Ah! my dear, poor Urania never had such a mother as. 
you, and she has lived in the great world besides, and thaPs 
a bad school. You will not take our Aurelia much into 
it, my dear boy,^^ he added, turning wistfully to Sir 
Amyas. * 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


203 


“ I would not let a breath blow on her that could touch 
the bloom of her charming frank innocence/^ cried the lad. 
“ But think you she can be in health? Lady Belle spoke 
of her being paleT^ 

“Look at my young lady herself said the major, 
which made them all laugh. They were full of hope. The 
major and his daughter would go themselves the next day, 
and a father's claim could not be refused even though not 
enforced according to Lady Arabella's desire. 

Their coach — ^for so Sir Amyas insisted on their going — 
was at the door at the earliest possible moment that a 
school for young ladies could be supposed to be astir; long 
before Mr. Belamour was up, for he retained his old habits 
so much that it was only on great occasions that he rose 
before noon; and while Eugene, under the care of Jumbo 
and Grey, Was going off in great felicity to see the morning 
parade in St. James's Park. 

One of the expedients of well-born Huguenot refugees 
had been tuition, and Mme. d 'Elmar had made her board- 
ing-school so popular and fashionable that a second gene- 
ration still maintained its fame, and damsels of the highest 
rank were sent there to learn Erench, to play the spinnet, 
to embroider, to dance, and to get into a carriage with 
grace. It was only countrified misses, bred by old-fash- 
ioned scholars, who attempted to go any further, such as 
that lusus natures, Miss Elizabeth Carter, who knew seven 
languages, or tHe Bishop of Oxford's niece, Catherine Tal- 
bot, who even painted natural flowers and wrote medita- 
tions! The education Aurelia Delavie had received over 
her Homer and Eacine would be smiled at as quite super- 
fluous. 

There was no difiSculty about admission. The coach 
with its Belamour trappings was a warrant of admittance. 
The father and daughter were shown into a parlor with a 
print of Marshal Schomberg over the mantel-piece and 
wonderful performances in tapestry work and embroidery 
on every available chair, as well as framed upon the wains- 
coted walls. 

A little lady, more French than English, moving like a 
perfectly wound up piece of mechanism, all but her bright 
little eyes, appeared at their request to see madame. It 
had been agreed beforehand that the major should betray 


204 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


neither doubt nor difficulty, but simply say that he had 
come up from the country and wished to see his daughter. 

Madame, in perfectly good English, excused herself, but 
begged to hear the name again. 

There must be some error, no young lady of the name 
of Delavie was there. 

They looked at one another, then Betty asked, “ Has 
not a young lady been placed here by Lady Belamour?^^ 

“ Ho, madame. Lady Belamour once requested me to re- 
ceive her twin daughters, but they were mere infants; I 
receive none under twelve years old.^^ 

‘‘ My good lady,^^ cried the major, ‘‘ if you are denying 
my daughter to me, pray consider what you are doing. I 
am her own father, and whatever Lady Belamour may tell 
you, I can enforce my claim. 

“ I am not in the habit of having my word doubted, 
sir,^^ and the little lady drew herself up like a true Gascon 
baroness, as she was. 

“ Madame, forgive me, I am -in terrible perplexity and 
distress. My poor child, who was under Lady Belamour ""s 
charge, has been lost to us these three weeks or more, and 
we have been told that she has been seen here. ” 

“ Thus,^^ said Betty, seeing that the lady still needed to 
be appeased, “ we thought Lady Belamour might have 
deceived you as well as others. 

“ May I ask who said the young lady had been seen here?^^ 
asked the mistress coldly. 

“ It was Lady Arabella Mar,^^ said Betty, “ and, justly 
speaking, I believe she did not say it was here that my poor 
sister was seen, but that she had seen her, and we drew the 
conclusion that it was here."^^ 

“ My Lady Arabella Mar is too often taken out by my 
lady countess, said Mme. d^ Elmar. 

“ Could I see her? Perhaps she would tell me where 
she saw my dear sister said Betty. 

“ She went to a rout last evening and has not returned, 
was the reply. “ Indeed my lady, her mother, spoke as if 
she might never come back, her marriage being on the 
tafis. Indeed, sir, indeed, madame, I should most gladly 
assist you,-’^ she said, as a gesture of bitter grief and disap- 
pointment passed between father and daughter, both of 
whom were evidently persons of condition. If it will be 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


205 


any satisfaction to the lady to see all my pupils, I will con- 
duct her through my establishment.^^ 

Betty caught at this, though there was no doubt that tlie 
mistress was speaking in good faith; She was led to a 
large empty room, where a dozen young ladies were drawn 
up awaiting the dancing-master — girls from fourteen to 
seventeen, the elder ones in mob caps, those with more pre- 
tensions to fashion, with loose hair. Their twelve courtesies 
were made, their twenty-four eyes peeped more or less 
through their lashes at the visitor, but no such soft brown 
eyes as Aurelia^s were among them. 

“Madame,^^ said Betty, “may I be permitted to ask 
the young ladies a question She spoke it low, and in 
French, and her excellent accent won madame^s heart at 
once. Only madame trusted to mademoiselle's discretion 
not to put mysteries inta their minds, or they would be all 
tete montee. 

So, as discreetly as the occasion would permit, Betty 
asked whether any one had seen or heard Lady Belle speak 
of having seen any one — a young girl — a young lady? 

Half a dozen tongues broke out, “We thought it all 
Lady Belief’s whimsical secrets, and as many stories were 
beginning, but madame ^s awful little hand waved silence, 
as she said, “ Speak then. Miss Staunton.'’^ 

“I know none of Lady Beliefs secrets, ma^am — ask Miss 
Howard. 

Miss Howard looked sulky; and a little eager, black-eyed 
thing cried, “ She said it was an odious girl whom Lady 
Belamour keeps shut up in a great dungeon of an old 
house, and is going to send beyond seas, because she mar- 
ried two men at once in disguise. 

“ Fy, Miss Crawford, you kuow nothing about it.^^ 
“You told me so, yourself. Miss Howard.” 

“ I never said anything so foolish. 

“ Hush, young ladies, said madame. “ Miss Howard, 
if you know anything, I request you to speak. ” 

“ It would be a great kindness,^^ said Betty. “ Might I 
ask the favor of seeing Miss Howard in private ?^^ 

Madame conseuted, and Miss Howard followed Betty out 
of hearing, muttering that Belle would fly at her for be- 
traying her. 

“ I do not like asking you to betray your friend's confi- 
dence,^' said Betty gently. 


206 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


Oh, as to that, I^m not her friend, and I believe she 
has talked to half a dozen more.^^ 

“ I am this poor young lady^s sister, said Betty. “We 
are afraid she has fallen into unkind hands; and I should 
be very thankful if you could help me to find her. Where 
do you think Lady Belle saw her?^^ 

“ I thought it was in some old house in Hertfordshire,^^ 
said Miss Howard, more readily, “ but I am not sure; for 
it was last Sunday, which she spent with her mamma. She 
came back and made it a great secret that she had seen the 
girl that had taken in Sir Amyas Belamour, who was con- 
tracted to herself, to marry him and his uncle both at once 
in disguise, and then had set the house a-fire. Belle had 
got some one to let her see the girl, and then she went on 
about her being not pretty. ^ ^ 

“ What did she say about sending her beyond seas?^^ 
“Oh! that Miss Crawford made up. She told me that 
they were going to find a husband for her such as a low 
creature like that deserved. And she protests she is to be 
married to Sir Amyas very soon, and come back here while 
he makes the grand tour. I hope she wonH. She will 
have more spiteful ways than ever.'’^ 

This was all that Betty could extract. She saw Miss 
Crawford alone, but her tidings melted into the vaguest 
second-hand hearsay. The inquiry had only produced a 
fresh anxiety. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

A BLACK BLOKDEL. 

And to the castle gate approached in quiet wise, 

Whereat soft knocking, entrance he desired. 

Spenser. 

“ ISTephe'w, is Delavie House inhabited?'" inquired Mr. 
Belamour, as the baffled seekers s^it together that evening. 

“No, sir," rej)lied Sir Amyas. “My lady will only 
lease it to persons of quality, on such high terms that she 
can not obtain them for a house in so antiquated a neigh- 
borhood. Oh, you do not think it possible that my dearest 
life can be in captivity so near us! An old house! On 
my soul, so it must be; I will go thither instantly. " 


LOVE AND LIFE. 207 

‘‘ And be taken for a Mohock! No, no, sit down, rash 
youth, and tell me who keeps the house. 

‘‘ One Madge, an old woman as sour as vinegar, who 
snarled at me like a toothless cur when I once went there 
to find an old fowling-piece of my father^s. 

“ Then you are the last person who should show yourself 
there, since there are sure to be strict charges against ad- 
mitting you, and you would only put the garrison on the 
alert. You had better let the reconnoitering party consist 
of Jumbo and myself. 

The ensuing day was Sunday. Something was said of St. 
PauTs, then in the bloom of youth and the wonder of Eng- 
land; but Betty declared that she could not run about to 
see fine churches till her mind was at ease about her poor 
sister. Might she only go to the nearest and quietest 
church? So she, with her father and Eugene, repaired to 
St. Clement Danes, where their landlord possessed a solid 
oak pew, and they heard a sermon on the wickedness and 
presumption of inoculating for the small-pox. 

It was not a genteel neighborhood, and the congregation 
was therefore large, for the substantial tradesfolk who had 
poured into the Strand since it had been rebuilt were far 
more religiously disposed than the fashionable world, re- 
taining either the Puritan zeal, or the High Church fervor, 
which were alike discouraged in the godless court. The 
major and his son and daughter were sohtary units in the 
midst of the groups of portly citizens, with soberly hand- 
some wives and gay sons and daughters, who were ex- 
changing greetings; and on their return to their hotel, the 
major betook himself to a pipe in the bar, and Eugene was 
allowed to go for a walk in the park with Palmer, while 
Betty sat in her own room with her Bible, striving to 
strengthen her assurance that the innocent would never be 
forsaken. Indeed Mr. Belamour had much strengthened 
her grounds of hope and comfort by his testimony to poor 
Aurelia^ s perfect guilelessness and simplicity throughout 
the affair. Yet the echo of that girPs chatter about Lady 
Belief's rival being sent beyond sea would return upon her 
ominously, although it might be mere exaggeration and 
misapprehension, like so much besides. 

A great clock, chiming one, warned her to repair to the 
sitting-room, where she met Eugene, full of the unedifying 
spectacle of a fight between two street lads. There had 


208 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


been a regular ring^ and the boy had been so much excited 
that Palmer had had much ado to bring him away. Betty 
had scarcely hushed his eager communications and repaired 
his toilet for dinner before Sir Amyas came in, having 
hurried away as soon as possible after attending his men to 
and from church. 

‘‘ Sister/’ he said, for so he insisted on calling Betty, “ I 
really think my uncle’s surmise may be right. I went 
home past Delavie House last night, just to look at it, and 
there was — there really was, a light in one of the windows 
on the first floor, which always used to be as black as 
Erebus. I had much ado to keep myself from thundering 
at the gate. I would have done so before now but for my 
imcle’s warning. Where can he be?” 

The major and Mr. Belamour here came in together, 
and the same torrent was beginning to be poured forth, 
when the latter cut it short with, “ They are about to lay 
the cloth. Eestrain yourself, my dear boy, or — ” and as 
at that moment the waiter entered, he went on with the 
utmost readiness — ‘‘ or, as it seems, the Queen of Hungary 
will never make good her claims. Pray, sir,” turning to 
Major Delavie, ‘‘ have you ever seen these young Arch- 
duchesses whose pretensions seem likely to convulse the 
Continent to its center?” 

The major, with an effort to gather his attention, replied 
that he could not remember; but Betty, with greater pres- 
ence of mind, described how she had admired the two sis- 
ters of Austria as little girls walking on the Prater. In- 
deed she and Mr. Belamour contrived to keep up the ball 
till the major was roused into giving an opinion of Prus- 
sian discipline, and to tell stories of Leopold of Dessau, 
Eugene, and ^Marlborough with sufficient zest to drive the 
young baronet almost frantic, especially as J umbo, behind 
his master’s chair, was on the broad grin all the time, and 
almost dancing in his shoes. Once he contrived to give an 
absolute wink with one of his big black eyes; not, however, 
undetected, for Mr. Belamour in a grave tone of reprimand 
ordered liim off to fetch an ivory tooth-pick-case. 

Not till the cloth had been removed, and dishes of early 
strawberries and of biscuits, accompanied by bottles of port 
and claret, placed on the table, and the servants had with- 
drawn, did Mr. Belamour observe, “ I have penetrated the 
outworks.” 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


209 


There was an outburst of inquiry and explanation, but 
he was not to be prevented from telling the story in his own 
way. “ I know the house well, for my brother lived there 
the first years of his marriage, before you came on the 
stage, young sir. Perhaps you do not know how to open 
the door from without?^ ^ 

“ Oh, sir, tell me the trick 

Mr. Ilelamour held up a small pass-key. There was a 
certain tone of banter about him which almost drove his 
nephew wild, but greatly reassured Miss Delavie. 

Why — why keep me in torments, instead of taking me 
with you?’"’ cried the youth. 

“ Because I wished my expedition to be no failure. I 
could not tell whether my key, which I found with my 
watch and seals, would still serve me. Ah ! you look on 
fire; but remember the outwords are not the citadel.^"’ 

“ For Heaven ^s sake, sir, torture me not thus!^^ 

‘‘ I knew that to make my summons at the outer gate 
would lead to a summary denial by the sour portress, so I 
experimented on the lock of the little door into the lane, 
and admitted myself and Jumbo into the court; but the 
great hall-door stood before me jealously closed, and the 
lower windows were shut with shutters, so that all I could 
do was to cause Jumbo to awake the echoes with a lusty 
peal on the knocker, which he repeated at intervals, until 
there hobbled forth to open it a crone as wrinkled and 
crabbed as one of Macbeth'^s witches. I demanded whether 
my Lady Belamour lived there. She croaked forth a nega- 
tive sound, and had nearly shut the door in my face,, but I 
kept her in parley by protesting that I had often visited my 
lady there, and offering a crown-piece if she would direct 
me to her.^^ 

‘‘ A crown! a kingdom, if she would bring us to the right 
one!^^ cried Sir Amyas. 

Of course she directed me to Hanover Square, and 
then, evidently supposing there was something amiss with 
the great gates, she insisted on coming to let me out, and 
securing them after me. 

The youth gave a great groan, saying, ‘‘ Excuse me, sir, 
but what are we the better of that?^ ^ 

“ Endure a little while, impatient swain, and you shall 
hear. I fancy she recognized the Belamour livery on Jum- 
bo, for she hobbled by my side maundering apologies about 


210 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


its being against orders to admit gentle or simple, beast dr 
body into the court, and that a poor woman could not lose 
her 23lace and the roof over her head. But mark me, while 
this was passing, Jumbo, who had kept nearer the house, 
whistling, ‘ The Nightingale ^ just above his breath, heard 
his name called, and presently saw two little faces at an 
upstairs window. ^ ^ 

“ My little sisters!’^ cried Sir Amyas. 

“ Even so; and he believes he heard one of them call 
out, ‘ Cousin, cousin Aura, come and see Jumbo and 
as the window was high up, I scarce dare credit his ears 
rather than his imagination, and we were instantly hustled 
away by the old woman, whose evident alarm is a further 
presumption that the captive is there, since Faith and Hope 
scarce have reached the years of being princesses immured 
in towers. 

“ It must be so,^’ said Betty; ‘‘ it would explain Lady 
Beliefs having had access to her! And now?^^ 

“Is it impossible to effect an entrance from the court 
and carry her away?” asked Sir Amyas. 

“ Entirely so, said his uncle. “ The only door into the 
court is fit to stand a siege, and all the lower windows are 
barred and fastened with shutters. The servants^ entrance 
is at the back toward the river, but no doubt it is also 
guarded, and my key will not serve for it. ” 

“ I could get some sprightly fellovs of ours to come 
disguised as Mohocks, and break in,^^ proceeded the youth, 
eagerly. “ Once in the court, trust me for forcing my 
way to her. ” 

“ And getting lodged in Newgate for your pains, or tried 
by court-martial,^^ said the major. “ No, when right is 
oil our side, do not let us make it wrong. Hush, Sir 
A myas, it is I who must here act. Whether you are her 
husband I do not know, I know that I am her father, and 
to-morrow morning, as soon as a magistrate can be spoken 
with, I shall go and demand a search warrant for the body 
of my daughter, Aurelia Delavie. ” 

“ The body! Good heavens, sir!^^ cried Betty. 

“ Not without the sweet soul, my dear. Miss Delavie,” 
said Mr. Belamour. “ Your excellent father has arrived 
at the only right and safe decision, and provided no further 
alarm is given, I think he may succeed. It is scarcely 
probable that my lady is in constant communication with 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


211 


her stern porteress, and my person was eviaently unknown. 
For her own sake, as well as that of the small fee I dropped 
into her hand, she is unlikely to report my reconnoissance.^^ 

Sir Amyas was frantic to go with his father-in-law, but 
both the elder men justly thought that his ambiguous 
claims would but complicate the matter. The landlord 
was consulted as to the acting magistrates of the time, and 
gave two or three addresses. 

Another night of prayer, suspense, and hope for Betty^s 
sick heart. Then, immediately after breakfast, the major 
set forth, attended by Falmer, long before Mr. Belamour 
had left his room, or the young baronet could escape from 
his military duties. Being outside the city, the Strand was 
under the jurisdiction of justices of the peace for Middle- 
sex, and they had so much more than they could do prop- 
erly, that some of them did it as little as possible. The 
first magistrate would not see him, because it was too 
early to attend to business; the second never heard matters 
at his private house, and referred him to the office in Bow 
Street. In fact he would have been wiser to have gone 
thither at first, but he had hoped to have saved time. He 
had to wait sitting on a greasy chair when he could no 
longer stand, till case after case was gone through, and 
when he finally had a hearing and applied for a warrant 
to search for his daughter in Delavie House, there was 
much surprise and reluctance to put such an insult on a 
lady of quality in favor at court. On his giving his rea- 
sons on oath for believing the young lady to be there, the 
grounds of his belief seemed to shrink away, so that the 
three magistrates held consultation whether the warrant 
could be granted. Finally, after eying him all over, and 
asking him where he had served, one of them, who had 
the air of having been in the army, told him that in con- 
sideration of his being a gentleman of high respectability 
who had served his country, they granted what he asked, 
being assured that he would not make the accusation 
lightly. The reforms made by Fielding had not yet be- 
gun, everybody had too much work, and the poor major 
had still some time to wait before an officer — tipstaff, as he 
was called — could accompany him, so that it was past noon 
when, off in the Bowstead carriage again, they went along 
the Strand, to a high-walled court belonging to one of the 
old houses of the nobility, most of which had perished in 


m 


LOVE AKO LIFE. 


the fire of London. There was a double-doored gate-way, 
and after much thundering in vain, at which the tipstaff, a 
red-nosed old soldier, waxed very irate, the old woman 
came out in courtesying, crying, frightened humility, de- 
claring that they would find no one there — they might look 
if they would. 

So they drove over the paved road, crossing the pitched 
pebbles, the door was unbarred, but no Aurelia sprung into 
her father’s, arms. Only a little terrier came barking out 
into the dismal paved hall. Into every room they looked, 
the old woman asseverating denials that it was of no use, 
they might see for themselves, that no one had been there 
for years past. Full of emptiness, indeed, with faded 
grimy family portraits on the walls, moth-eaten carpets 
and cushions, high-backed chairs with worm-holes; and 
yet, somehow, there was one room that did look as if it had 
recently been sat in. Two little stools were drawn up close 
to a chair; the terrier poked and smelt about uneasily as 
though in search of some one, and dragged out from under 
a couch a child’s ball which he began to worry. On the 
carpet, too, were some fragments of bright fresh embroidery 
silk, which the practiced eye of the constable noticed. 
“ This here was not left ten or a dozen years ago,” said 
he; and, extracting the ball from the fangs of the dog, 
“ No, and this ball ain’t ten year old, neither. Come, 
Mother What’s’ -name, it’s no good deceiving an officer of 
the law; whose is this here ball?” 

‘‘ It’s the little misses’. They’ve a bin here with their 
maid, but their nurse have been and fetched ’em away this 
morning, and a good riddance too.” 

“ Who was the maid? — on your oath I” 

“ One Deborah Davis, a deaf woman, and pretty nigh a 
dumb one. She be gone too.” 

Nor could the old woman tell where she was to be found. 
‘‘ My lady’s woriian had sent her in,” she said, “ and she 
was glad enough to be rid of her.” 

“ Come, now, my good woman, speak out, and it will 
be better for you,” said the major. “ I know my daugh- 
ter was here yesterday.” 

“ And what do I know of where she be gone? She went 
off in a sedan-chair this morning before seven o’clock, and 
if you was to put me to the rack I couldn’t say no more.” 


LOVE AND LIFE. 21S 

As to which way or with whom she had gone, the old 
Woman was, apparently, really ignorant. 

The poor major had to return home baffled and despair- 
ing, still taking the tipstaff with him, in case, on consulta- 
tion with Mr. Belamour, it should be deemed expedient to 
storm Hanover Square itself, and examine Lady Belamour 
and her servants upon oath. 

Behold, the parlor was empty. Even Betty and Eugene 
were absent. The major hastened to knock at Mr. Bela- 
mour^s door. There was no answer; and when he knocked 
louder it was still in vain. He tried the door and found it 
locked. Then he retreated to the sitting-room, rang, and 
made inquiries of the waiter who answered the bell. 

Mr. Belamour had received a note at about ten o^ clock, 
and had gone out with his servant.* Sir Amyas Belamour 
had shortly after come very hastily to the parlor, and Miss 
Delavie and the little master had gone out with him “ in 
great disorder, said the waiter. 

At the same moment there was a knock at the door, and 
a billet was brought in from Lady Belamour. The major 
tore it open and read: 

“ My dear Cousik, — I grieve for you, but my Sus- 
picions were correct. We have all been completely hood- 
winked by that old Villain, my Brother-in-law. I can give 
hiTTi no other Name, for his partial Aberration of Mind 
has only sharpened his natural Cunning. Would you be- 
lieve it.^ He had obtained access to Delavie House, and had 
'there hidden the unfortunate Object of your Search, while 
he pretended to be assisting you, and this Morning he car- 
ried her off in a Sedan. I have sent the good Doves to 
Bowstead in 'case he should have the Assurance to return 
to his old Quarters, but I suspect that they are on the Way 
to Dover. You had better consult with Hargrave on the 
means of confirming the strange Marriage Ceremony that 
has passed between them, since that affords the best Security 
for your Daughter '’s Maintenance and Eeputation. Believe 
me, 1 share in your Distress. Indeed I have so frightful a 
Megrim that I can scarcely tell what I write, and I dare 
not iidmit you to-day. 

“ I remain, 

‘‘ Your loving and much-grieved Cousin, 

“ Urania Belamour/^ 


214 : 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


Poor major! His horror, perplexity, and despair were 
indescribable. He had one only hope — that Sir Amyas 
and Betty might be on the track. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

THE FIKST TASK. 

After all tliese there marcht a most faire dame 
Led of two gryslie villains, th’ one Despight, 

The other cleped Crueltie by name. 

Spenser. 

The traces of occupation had not deceived Major Delavie; 
Aurelia had been recently in Delavie House, and we must 
go back some way in our narrative to describe her arrival 
there. 

She had, on her return from Sedhurst on that Sunday, 
reached Bowstead, and entered by the lobby door just as 
Lady Belamour was coming down the stairs only attended 
by her woman, and ready to get into the carriage which 
waited at the hall door. 

Sinking on her knees before her with clasped hands, 
Aurelia exclaimed, “0 madam e, I ought not to have come 
away. Here I am, do what you will with me, but spare 
my father. He knew nothing of it. Only, for pity^s sake, 
do not put me among the poor wicked creatures in jail.^^ 
Get into that carriage immediately, and you shall know 
my decision, said Lady Belamour, with icy frigidness, 
but not the same fierceness as before; and Aurelia submis- 
sively obeyed, silenced by an imperious gesture when she 
would have asked, “ How is it with him whom she 
durst not name. 

Lady Belamour waited a minute or two while sending 
Loveday on a last message to the sick-room, then entered 
the large deep carriage, signing to her captive to take a 
corner where she could hardly be seen if any one looked 
through the window. Loveday followed, the door was shut 
by a strange servant, as it was in fact Lady Aresfield^s car- 
riage, borrowed both for the sake of speed, and of secrecy 
toward her own household. 

A few words passed by which Aurelia gathered something 
reassuring as to the state of the patient, and then Lady 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


215 


Belamour turned on her, demanding, “ So, young miss, 
you tried to escape me! Where have you been?'’'’ 

Only as far as Sedhurst church, madame. I would 
have gone home, but I feared to bring trouble on my 
father, and I came back to implore you to forgive. 

There was no softening of the terrible, beautiful face be- 
fore her, and she durst put no objective case to her verb. 
However, the answer was somewhat less dreadful than sh® 
had anticipated. 

I have been shamefully duped, said Lady Belamour, 
“ but it is well that it is no worse; nor shall I visit your 
otfenses on your father if you show your penitence by ab- 
solute submission. The absurd ceremony you went 
through was a mere mockery, and the old fool, Belamour, 
showed himself crazed for consenting to such an imjoroper 
frolic on the part of my son. Whether your innocence be 
feigned or not, however, I can not permit you to go out of 
my custody until the foolish youth or yourself be properly 
bestowed in marriage elsewhere. Meantime, you will re- 
main where I place you, and exactly fulfil my commands. 
Eemember that any attempt to communicate with any 
person outside the house will be followed by your father'’s 
immediate dismissal.-’'’ 

“ May I not let him know that I am safe?’^ 

“ Certainly not; I will see to your father.-” 

It was a period when great ladies did not scruple to scold 
at the top of their voices, and sometimes proceed to blows, 
but Lady Belamour never raised her low silvery tones, and 
thus increased the awfulness of her wrath and the impress- 
iveness of her determination. Face to face with her, there 
were few who did not cower under her displeasure; and 
poor Aurelia, resolute to endure for her father’s sake, could 
only promise implicit obedience. 

She only guessed when they entered London by the 
louder rumbling, and for one moment the coach paused as 
a horse was reined u]) near it, and with plumed liat in hand 
the rider bent forward to the window, exclaiming, “ Suc- 
cessful, by all that is lovely! Captured, by Jove!” 

“You shall hear all another time,” said Lady Belamour. 
“ Let us go on now. ” 

They did so, but the horseman continued to flash across 
the windows, and when the coach, after considerable delay, 
had entered the walled court, rumbled over the pavement. 


216 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


and stopped before a closed door, he was still there. 
When, after much thundering, the door was opened, 
Aurelia had a moment's glimpse of a splendid figure in 
gold and scarlet handing out Lady Belamour, who stood 
talking with him on the steps of the house for some mo- 
ments. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he remounted, 
and cantered off, after which my lady signed to Aurelia to 
alight, and followed her into the hall. 

“Madge," said Lady Belamour to the witch-like old 
woman who had admitted her, “ this young lady is to re- 
main here. You will open a bedroom and sitting-room for 
her at the back of the house. Let her be properly cared 
for, and go out in the court behind, but on no account ap- 
proach the front gates. Let no one know she is here. " 

Madge muttered some demands about supplies and pay- 
ments, and Lady Belamour waved her to settle them with 
Mrs. Loveday, turning meantime to the prisoner and say- 
ing, “ There, child, you are to remain here on your good 
behavior. Do your best to merit my good will, so that I 
may overlook what is past. Eecollect, the least attempt to 
escape, or to hold intercourse with the young, or the old, 
fool, and it shall be the worse with them and with your 
father." 

Therewith she departed, followed by Loveday, leaving 
Aurelia standing in the middle of the hall, the old hag gaz- 
ing on her with a malignant leer. “ Ho! ho! So that's 
the way! He has begun that work early, has he? What's 
your name, my lass? Oh, you need give yourself airs! I 
cry you mercy,' ' and she made a derisive courtesy. 

Poor Aurelia, pride had less to do with her silence than 
absolute uncertainty what to call herself. The wedding 
ring was on her finger, and she would not deny her mar- 
riage by calling herself Delavie, but Belamour might be 
dangerous, and the prefix was likewise a difficulty, so fal- 
tered, “You may call me Madame Aurelia." 

“ Madame Eeally. That's a queer name, but it will 
serve while you are here. " 

“ Pray let me go to my room," entreated the poor pris- 
oner, who felt an ineffable disgust at her jailer, and was 
becoming sensible to extreme fatigue. 

“ Your room, hey? D'ye think I keep rooms and beds 
as though this were an inn, single-handed as 1 am? You 
must wait, unless you be too fine to Igiid a hand." 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


217 


Anything will do/’ said Aurelia, ‘‘ if I may only rest. 
I would help, but I am so much tired that I can hardly 
stand. 

“ My lady has given it to you well. Mistress Really, or 
Mistress Falsely, whichever you may be,^^ mumbled Madge, 
perhaps in soliloquy, fumbling at the lock of a room which 
at last she opened. It smelled very close and fusty, and 
most of the furniture was heaped together under a cloth in 
the midst, dimly visible by the light of a heart-shaped 
aperture in the shutters. Unclosing one of the leaves, the 
old woman admitted enough daylight to guide Aurelia to a 
couch against the wall, saying, ‘‘ You can wait there till I 
see to your bed. And you^ll be wanting supper too!^’’ she 
added in a tone of infinite disgust. 

“ Oh, never mind supper, if I can only go to bed,^^ sighed 
Aurelia, sinking on the couch as the old woman hobbled 
off. Lassitude and exhaustion had brought her to a state 
like annihilation — unable to think or guess, hope or fear, 
with shoes hurting her footsore feet, a stiff dress cramping 
her too much for sleep, and her weary aching eyes gather- 
ing a few impressions in a passive way. On Sie walls hung 
dimly seen portraits strangely familiar to her. The man 
in a green dressing-gown with floating hair had a face she 
knew; so had the lady in the yellow ruff. And was not 
that the old crest, the Delavie butterfly, with the motto, 
Ma Vie et ma Mie, carved on the mantel-piece? Thus she 
knew that she must be in Delavie House, and felt some- 
what less desolate as she recognized several portraits as 
duplicates of those at the Great House at Carminster, and 
thought they looked at her in pity with their eyes like her 
fathers. The youngest son in the great family group was, 
as she knew, an Amyas, and he put her in mind of her 
own. Oh, was he her own, when she could not tell 
whether those great soft, dark-gray eyes that looked so 
kindly on her had descended to the young baronet? She 
hoped not, fof Harriet and she had often agreed that they 
presaged the fate of that gallant youth, who had been 
killed by Sir Bevil Grenville^ s side. He must have looked 
just as Sir Amyas did, lying senseless after the hurt she 
had caused. 

No more definite nor useful thoughts passed through the 
brain of the overwearied maiden as she rested on the couch, 
how long she knew not; but it was growing dark by the 


21S 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


time Madge returned with a guttering candle, a cracked 
plate and wedge of greasy-looking pie, a piece of dry bread, 
a pewter cup of small beer, and an impaired repulsive steel 
knife with a rounded end, and fork with broken prong. 
The fact of this being steel was not distressing to one who 
had never seen a silver fork, but the condition of both 
made her shudder, and added to the sick sense of exhaus- 
tion that destroyed her appetite. She took a little of the 
b-read, and, being parched with thirst, drank some of the 
sour beer before Madge came back again. “ Oh, ho, 
youTe nice, I see, my fine Dame Really!^’ 

‘‘ Thank you, indeed I canT eat, I am so much tired,^^ 
said Aurelia apologetically. 

“ YouTl have to put up with what serves your betters, I 
can tell jon/^ was all the reply she received. Well, be 
ye coming to your bed?’^ 

So up the creaking stairs she was guided to a room, very 
unlike that fresh white bower at Bowstead, large, eerie, 
ghostly-looking, bare save for a dark oak chest, and a bed 
of the same material, the posts apparently absolute trees, 
squared and richly carved, and supporting a solid wooden 
canopy with an immense boss as big as a cabbage, and 
carved something like one, depending from the center, as 
if to endanger the head of the unwary, who should start up 
in bed. No means of ablution were provided, and Aurelia 
felt so grimed and dusty that she ventured to beg for an 
ewer and basin; but her amiable hostess snarled out that 
she had enough to do without humoring fiddle-faddle whim- 
sies, and that she might wash at the pump if nothing else 
would serve her. 

Aurelia wished she had known this before going upstairs, 
and, worn out as she was, the sense implanted by her 
mother that it was wicked to go to sleep dirty, actually 
made her drag herself down to a grim little scullery, where 
she was permitted to borrow a wooden bowl, since she was 
too 7iice forsooth to wash down-stairs. She carried it up 
with considerable trouble more than half full, and a bit of 
yellow soap and clean towel were likewise vouchsafed to 
her. The wash — perhaps because of the infinite trouble it 
cost her — did her great good — it gave her energy to recol- 
lect her prayers and bring good angels about her. If this 
had been her first plunge from home, when Jumbo^s violin 
luul so scared her, such a place as this would have almost 


LOVE AKO LIFE. 


2VJ 

killed her; but the peace that had come to her in Sedhurst 
Church lingered still round her, and as she climbed up into, 
the lofty bed the verse rang in her ears, “ Love is strong as 
death/^ Whether love divine or human she did not ask 
herself, but with the sense of soothing upon her, she slept 
— and slept as a seventeen-years-old frame will sleep after 
having been thirty-six hours awake and afoot. 

When she awoke it was with the sense of some one being 
in the room. _ ‘‘Oh gemini!'*'’ she heard, and starting up, 
only just avoiding the knob, she saw Mrs. Loveday^s well- 
preserved brunette face gazing at her. 

“ Your servant, ma"am,^^ she said. “ You'll excuse mo 
if I speak with you here, for I must be back by the time 
my lady's bell rings." 

“ Is it very late?" said Aurelia, taking from under her 
pillow her watch, which had stopped long ago. 

“ Nigh upon ten o'clock," said Loveday. “ I must not 
stay, but it is my lady's wish that you should have all that 
is comfortable, and you'll let me know how Madge behaves 
herself. " 

“ Is there any news from Bowstead?" was all Aurelia 
could at first demand. 

“ Not yet; but bless you, my dear young lady, you had 
best put all that matter out of your he*ad forever and a 
day. I know what these young gentlemen are. They are 
not to be hearkened to one moment, not the best of them. 
Let them be ever so much in earnest at the time, their 
parents and guardians have the mastery of them sooner or 
later, and the further it has gone, the worse it is. I saw 
you lying asleep here looking so innocent that it went to 
my heart, and I heard you mutter in your sleep ‘ Love is 
strong as death,' but that's only a bit of some play-book, 
and don't you trust to it, for I never saw love that was 
stronger than a spider's web. " 

“ Oh, hush, Mrs. Loveday. It is in the Bible!" 

“You don't say so, ma'am," the woman said awe- 
struck. 

“I would show it you, only all my things are away. 
God is love, you know," said Aurelia, sitting up with 
clasped hands, “ and lie gives it, so it must be strong." 

“ Well, all the love I've ever seen was more the devil's," 
said Loveday truly enough; “ and you'll find it so if you 


220 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


mean to trust to these fine young beaus and what they 
say. 

Aurelia shook her head a little as she sat up in bed with 
her clasped hands; and there was a look on her face that 
Mrs. Loveday did not understand, as she went on with her 
advice : 

So, my dear young lady, you see all that is left for you 
is to frame your mind to keep close, here, and conform to 
my lady^s will till all is blown over one way or another. 

“ I know that,^^ said Aurelia. 

“ Don^t you do anything to anger her,^^ added the wait- 
ing-woman, “ for there^s no one who can stand against her; 
and Ifil speak up for you when I can, for I know how to 
come round my lady, if any one does. Tell me what you 
want, and ITl get it for you; but donT try to get but, and 
doiiT send Madge, for she is not to be trusted with money. 
If I were you, Td not let her see that watch, and Fd lock 
my door at night. YouT'e too innocent, whatever my lady 
may say. Kerens half a pound of tea and some sugar, 
which you had best keep to yourself, and IVe seen to there 
being things decent down-stairs. Tell me, my dear, is 
there anything you want? Your clothes, did you say? Oh, 
yes, you shall have them — yes, and your books. Here^s 
some warm wate'r,^^ as a growling was heard at the door; 

I must not wait till you are dressed, but there^s a box of 
shells down in your room that Mr. Wayland sent home for 
my lady to line a grotto with, and she wants them all sort- 
ed out. ‘ Tell her she must make herself of use if she 
wants to be forgiven, ^ says my lady, for she is in a mighty 
hurry for them now she has heard of the Duchess of Port- 
land's grotto; though she has let 'them lie here unpacked 
for this half year and more. So if they are all done by 
night, may be my lady will be pleased to let you have a bit 
more liberty. 

Mrs. Loveday departed, having certainly cheered the 
captive, and Aurelia rose, weary-limbed and sad-hearted, 
with a patient trust in her soul that Love Divine would 
not fail her, and that earthly love would do its best. 

She found matters, improved in the down-stairs room, 
the furniture was in order, a clean cloth on the table, a 
white roll, butter, and above all clean bright implements, 
showing Mrs. Loveday ^s influence. She eat and drank like 
a hungry girl, washed up for herself rather than let Madge 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


221 


touch anything she could help, and looked from the win- 
dow into a dull court of dreary, blighted-looking turf divid- 
ed by flagged walks, radiating from a statue in the middle, 
representing a Triton blowing a conch — no doubt mtended 
to spout water, for there was a stone trough round him, 
but he had long forgotten his functions, and held a spar- 
row^ s nest with streaming straws in his hand. This must 
be the prison-yard, where alone she might walk, since it 
lay at the back of the house; and with a sense of depres- 
sion she turned to the task that awaited her. 

A very large foreign-looking case had been partly 
opened, and when she looked in she was appalled at the 
task to be accomplished in one day. It was crammed with 
shells of every size and description, from the large helmet- 
conch and Triton ^s trumpet, down to the tiny pink cowry 
and rice-volute, all stuffed together without arrangement 
or packing, forming a mass in which the unbroken shells 
reposed in a kind of sand, of debris ground together out of 
the victims; and when she took up a tolerable-sized uni- 
valve, quantities of little ones came tumbling out of its 
inner folds. She took up a handful, and presently picked 
out one perfect valve like a rose petal, three fairy cups of 
limpets, four ribbed cowries, and a thing like a green pea. 
Of course she knew no names, but a kind of interest w^as 
awakened by the beauty and variety before her. A pile of 
papers had been provided, and the housewife which Betty 
made her always carry in her pocket furnished wherewithal 
to make up a number of bags for the lesser sorts; and she 
went to work, her troubles somewhat beguiled by the novel 
beauties of each delicate creature she disinterred, but re- 
membering with a pang how, if she could have described 
them to Mr. Belamour, he would have discoursed upon the 
Order of Nature. 

London noises were not the continuous roar of vehicles 
of the present day, but there was sound enough to remind 
the country girl where she was, and the street cries of 
“Old clothes!^’ “Sprats, oh!"'’ “Sweep!"" were heard 
over the wall, sometimes with tumultuous voices that 
seemed to enhance her loneliness, as she sat on the floor, 
hour after hour, sifting out the entire shells, and feeling a 
languid pleasure in joining the two halves of a bivalve, es- 
pecially those lovely sunset shells that have rosy rays diverg- 
ing from their crimson hinge over their polished surface, 


222 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


white, or just tinted with the hues of a daffodil sky. She 
never clasped a pair together without a little half- uttered 
ejaculation, “ Oh, bring me and my dear young love thus 
together again And when she found a couple making a 
perfect heart, and holding together through all, she kissed 
it tenderly in the hope that thus it might be with her and 
with him whose hand and whose voice returned on her, 
calling her his dearest life! 

She durst only quit the shells to eat the dinner which 
Madge served at one o^ clock — a tolerable meal of slices of 
cold beef from a cook^s shop, but seasoned with sour looks 
and a murmur at ladies’ fancies. The weariness and 
languor of the former day’s exertions made her for the 
present disinclined to explore the house, even had she had 
time, and when twilight came there could have been little 
but fragments at the bottom of the case, though she could 
see no more to sort them. 

And what were these noises around her making her 
start? Eats! Yes, here they were, venturing out from 
all the corners. They knew there had been food in the 
room. This was why Madge had those two gaunt, weird- 
looking cats in her kitchen ! Aurelia went and sat on the 
step into the court to be out of their way, but Madge hunt- 
ed her in that the door might be shut and barred; and 
when she returned trembling to the sitting-room, she heard 
such a scampering and a scrambling that she durst not en- 
ter, and betook herself to her chamber and to bed. 

Alas! that was no refuge. She had been too much tired 
to hear anything the night before, but to-night there was 
scratching, nibbling, careering, fighting, sqneaking, recoil 
and rally, charge and rout, as the gray Hanover rat fought 
his successful battle with his black English cousin all over 
the floors and stairs — nay, once or twice came rushing up 
and over the bed — frightening its occupant almost out of 
her senses, as she cowered under the bed-clothes, not at 
all sure that they would not proceed to eating her. Hap- 
pily daylight came early. Aurelia, at its first ray, darted 
across the room, starting in horror when she touched a 
soft thing with her bare foot, opened the shutter and threw 
open the casement. Light drove the enemy back to their 
holes, and she had a few hours’ sleep, but when Mrs. 
Loveday came to the room when she was nearly dressed. 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


223 


she exclaimed, Why, miss, you look paler than you did 

yesterday. ^ r j 

“ The rats!’^ said Aurelia under her breath. 

“Ah! the rats! Of course they are bad enough in an 
old desolate place like this. But youVe done the shells 
right beautiful, that I will say; and you may leave this 
house this very day if you will only give your consent to 
what my lady asks. You shall be sent down this very day -* 
to Carminster, if so be you ^11 give up that ring of yours, 
and sign a paper giving up all claim to be married to his 
honor. See, here it is, all ready, in my lady's letter. " 

“ I can not," said Aurelia, with her hands behind her. 

“ You can read my lady's letter,," said Loveday; “ that 
can do you no harm. " 

Aurelia felt she must do that at least. 

“ Child, — I will overlook your Transgression on the One 
Condition, that you sign this Paper and ^nd it with your 
so-called Wedding Ring back to me immediately. Other- 
wise you must take the Consequences, and remain where 
you are till after my Son's Marriage. 

“ Ukahia Belamour. " 

The paper was a formal renunciation of all rights or 
claims from the fictitious marriage by which she haS been 
deceived, and an absolute pledge never to renew any con- 
tract with Sir Amyas Belamour, Knight Baronet, who had 
grossly played on her. 

“ ISTo, I can not," said Am^elia, pushing it from her. 

“ Indeed, miss, I would not persuade you to it if it were 
not for your own good; but you may be sure it is no use 
holding out against her ladyship. If you sign it now, and 
give it up honorable, she will send Mr. Dove home with 
you, and there you'll be as if nothing had been amiss, no 
one knowing nothing about it; but if you persist it will not 
make the marriage a bit more true, and you will only be 
kept moped up in this dismal place till his honor is married, 
and there's no saying what worse my lady may do to you." 

Another night of rats came up before Aurelia's imagina- 
tion in contrast with the tender welcome at home; but the 
white face and the tones that had exclaimed, “ Madame, 
what are you doing to my wife?" arose and forbade her. 
She would not fail him. So she said firmly once more. 


224 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


“ No, Mrs. Loveday, I can not. I do not know what law- 
yers may say, but I feel myself bound to Sir Amyas, and 
I will not break my vow — God helping me,^ ^ she added 
under her breath. 

“You must write it to her ladyship then. She will 
never take such a message through me. Here is paper and 
pen that I brought, in hopes that you would be wise and 
submit for your honored father’s sake.” 

“ My father can not be persecuted for what he has noth- 
ing to do with,” said Aurelia, with the gentle dignity that 
had grown on her since her troubles. And taking the pen, 
she wrote her simple refusal, signing it Aurelia Belamour. 

“ As you please, ma’am,” said Mrs. Loveday, “ but I 
have my lady’s orders to bring this paper every day till you 
sign it, and it would be better for you if you would do it at 
once. ” 

Aurelia only shook her head, and asked if Mrs. Loveday 
had seen that she had finished sorting the shells. Yes; and 
as she was now dressed they went down together to the 
sitting-room. The shutters were still closed, Madge would 
not put a hand to the room except on compulsion, and 
Aurelia’s enemies had left evidence of their work; not only 
was the odor of the room like that of a barn, but the paper 
bags had in some cases been bitten through, and the shells 
scattered about, and of the loaf and butter which Aurelia 
had left on a high shelf in the cupboard nothing remained 
but a few fragments. 

Loveday was very much shocked, all the more when 
Aurelia quietly said she should not mind it so much if the 
rats would only stay down-stairs, and not run over her m 
bed. 

“ Yet you will not sign the paper.” 

“ I can not,” again said Aurelia. 

“ My stars, I never could abear rats! Why they fly at 
one’s throat sometimes!” 

“ I hope God will take care of me,” said Aurelia, in a 
trembling voice. “ He did last night.” 

Loveday began a formal leave-taking courtesy, but pres- 
ently turned back. “ There now,” she said, “ I can not 
do it, I couldn’t sleep a wink for thinking of you among 
the rats! Look here, I shall send a porter to bring away 
those shells if you’ll make up their bags again fhat the 
njisty vermin have eaten, and there’s a little terrier dog 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


225 


about the place that no one will miss, he shall bring it 
down, and depend upon it, the rats won^t venture near 
it."" 

‘‘ Oh! thank you Mrs. Loveday, how good you are!"" 

Ah, don"t then! If you could say that, my dear!"" 

Mrs. Loveday hurried away, and after breakfasting, Au- 
relia repaired the ravages of the rats, and made a last sort- 
ing of the residuum of shell dust, discovering numerous 
minute beauties, which awoke in her the happy thought of 
the Oreator"s individual love. 

She had not yet finished before Madge"s voice was heard 
in querulous anger, and a heavy tread came along with her. 

A big man, who could have carried ten times the weight 
of the box of shells, came in with a little white dog with 
black ears, under his arm. 

There,"" said the amiable guardian of the house, “ that 
smart madame says that it"s her ladyship" s pleasure you 
should have that little beast to keep down the rats. As if 
my cats was not enough! But mind you, Madame Eeally, 
if so be he meddles with my cats, it will be the worse for 
him."" 

The porter took up the box, and departed, and Aurelia 
was left with her new companion sniffing all round the 
room, much excited by the neighborhood of his natural en- 
emies. However, he obeyed her call, and let her make 
friends, and read the name on the brass plate upon his col- 
lar. When she read “ Sir A. Belamour, Bart.,"" she took 
the little dog in her arms and kissed its white head. 

Beuig fairly rested, and having no task to accomplish, 
she felt the day much longer, though less solitary, in the 
companionship of the dog, to whom she whispered many 
fond compliments, and vain questions as to his name. 
With him at her heels, and Madge and her cats safely shut 
into the kitchen, she took courage to wander about the dull 
court, and then to explore the mansion and try to get a 
view from the higher windows, in case they were not shut- 
tered up like the lower ones. The emptiness of Bowstead 
was nothing to this, and she smiled to herself at having 
thought herself a prisoner there. 

Most of the rooms were completely dismantled, or had 
only ghastly rags of torn leather or tapestry hanging to 
their walls. The upper windows, however, were merely 
obscured by dust and cobwebs. Her own bedroom-windows 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


226 

only showed the tall front of an opposite house^, but climb- 
ing to the higher story, she could see at the back over the 

f arden wall the broad sheet of the Thames, covered with 
oats and wherries, and the banks provided with steps and 
stairs, at the opening of every street on the opposite side, 
where she beheld a confused mass of trees, churches, and 
houses. Nearer, the view to the westward was closed in 
by a stately edifice which she did not know to be Somerset 
Bouse; and from another window on the east side of the 
house she saw, over numerous tiled roofs, a gate-way which 
she guessed to be Temple Bar, and a crowded thorough- 
fare, where the people looked like ants, toiling toward the 
great dome that rose in the misty distance. Was this the 
way she was to see London? 

Coming down with a lagging step, she met Madge^s face 
peering up: ‘‘ Biumph! there you be, my fine miss! No 
gaping after sweethearts from the window, or it will be the 
worse for you. " 

The terrier growled, as having already adopted his young 
lady^s defense, and Aurelia, dreading a perilous explosion 
of his zeal in her cause, hurried him into her parlor. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

THESECONDTASK. 

Hope no more, 

Since thou art furnished with hidden lore, 

To ’scape thy due reward if any day 
Without some task accomplished pass away. 

Moore. 

The little dog^s presence was a comfort, butliis night of 
combat and scuffling was not a restful one and the poor 
prisoner's sickness of heart and nervous terrors grew upon 
her every hour, with misgivings lest she should be clinging 
to a shadow and sacrificing her return to Be tty ^s arms for 
a phantom. There were moments when her anguish of 
vague terror and utter loneliness impelled her to long to 
sign her renunciation that moment; and when she thought 
of recurring hours and weeks of such days and such nights 
her spirit quailed within her, and Loveday might have 
found her less calmly steadfast had she come in the morn- 
ing. 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


227 


She did not come, and this in itself was a disappoint- 
ment, for at least she brought a human voice and a pitying 
countenance which, temptress though she might be, had 
helped to bear Aurelia through the first days. Oh! could 
she but’ find anything to do! She had dusted her two rooms 
as well as she could consistently with care for the dress she 
could not change. She blamed herself extremely for hav- 
ing forgotten her Bible and Prayer-book when hastily mak- 
ing up her bundle of necessaries, and though there was lit- 
tle chance that Madge should possess either, or be able to 
read, she nerved herself to ask: Bible! what should ye 
want of a Bible, unless to play the hypocrite? I hain^t got 
none!^^ was the reply. 

• So Aurelia could only walk up and down the court try- 
ing to repeat the Psalms, and afterward the poetry she h^ 
learned for Mr. Belamouris benefit, sometimes deriving 
comfort from the promises, but oftener wondering whether 
he had indeed deserted her in anger at her distrustful curi- 
osity. She tried to scrape the moss-grown Triton, she 
crept upstairs to the window that looked toward the City, 
and cleared off some of the dimness, and she got a needle 
and thread and tried to darn the holes in the curtains and 
cushions, but the rotten stuff crumbled under her fingers, 
and would not hold the stitches. At last she found in a 
dusty comer a boardless book with neither beginning nor 
end, being Defoe ^s “ Plague of London." She read and 
read with a horrid fascination, believing every word of it, 
wondering whether this house could have been infected, and 
at length feeling for the plague spot! 

A great church-clock enabled her to count the hours! 
Oh, how many there were of them! How many more 
would there be? This was only her second day, and deliv- 
erance could not come for weeks, were her young husband 
— if husband he were — ever so faithful. How should she 
find patience in this dreariness, interspersed with fits of 
alarm lest he should be dangerously ill and suffering? She 
fell on her knees and prayed for him and for herself! 

Here it was getting dark again, and Madge would hunt 
her in presently and shut the shutters. Hark! what was 
that? A bell echoing over the house! Madge came after 
her. “ Where are you, my fine mistress! Go you into your 
parlor, I say/’ and she turned the key upon the prisoner, 
whose heart beat like a bird fluttering in a cage. Suddenly 


228 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


her door was opened, and in darted Fidelia and Lettice, 
who flung themselves upon her with ecstatic shrieks of 
“ Cousin Aura, dear Cousin Aura!"^ Loveday was behind, 
directing the bringing in of trunks from a hackney-coach. 
All she said was, ‘‘ My lady^s daughters are to be with you 
for the night, madame : I must not say more, for her lady- 
ship is waiting for me. 

She was gone, while the three were still in the glad tangle 
of an embrace beginning again and again, with all sorts of 
little exclamations from the children, into which Aurelia 
broke with the inquiry for their brother. “ He is much 
better, said Fay. “ He is to get up to-mon’ow, and then 
lie will come and And you. ^ ^ 

‘‘ Have you seen him?^^ 

“ Oh, yes, and he says it is Sister Aura, and not Cousin 
Aura — 

“ My dear, dear little sisters — and she hugged them 
again. 

“ I was sitting upon his bed,^^ saidLetty, “ and we were 
all talkmg about you when my lady mamma came. Are 
mothers kinder than lady mammas 

“Was she angry asked Aurelia. 

“Oh! she frightened me,^^ said Fay. “ She said we 
were pert, forward misses, and we^ must hold our tongues, 
for we should be whipped if we ever said your name. Cousin 
— Sister Aura, again; and she would not let us go to wish 
Brother Amyas good-bye this morning. " 

Aurelia ^s heart could but leap with joy that her tyrant 
should have failed in carrying to Bowstead the renuncia- 
tion of the marriage. Whether Lady Belamour meant it 
or not, she had made resistance much easier by the com- 
pany of Faith and Hope, if only for a single night. She 
gathered from their prattle that their mother, having found 
that their talk with their brother was all of the one object 
of his thoughts, had carried them oif summarily, and liiui 
been since driving about London in search of a school at 
which to leave them; but they were too young for Queen ^s 
Square, and there was no room at another house at which 
Lady Belamour had applied. She would not take them 
home, being, of course, afraid of their tongues, and in her 
perplexity had been reduced to letting them share Aurelia^ s 
captivity at least for the night. 

What joy it was! They said it was an ugly dark house. 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


229 


out Aurelia^s presence was perfect content to them, and 
theirs was to lier comparative felicity, assuring her as they 
did, through their childish talk, of Sir Amyas^s unbroken 
love and of Mr. Belamour^s endeavors to find her. What 
mattered it that Madge was more offended than ever, and 
refused to make the slightest exertion for the Wayland 
brats at that time of night without warning. They had 
enough for supper, and if Aurelia had not, their company 
was worth much more to her than a full meal. The ter- 
rier's rushes after rats were only diversion now, and when 
all three nestled together in the big bed, the fun was more 
delightful than ever. Between those soft caressing creatures 
Aurelia heard no rats, and could well bear some kicks at 
night and being drummed awake at some strange hour in 
the morning. 

Mrs. Loveday arrived soon after the little party had gone 
down-stairs. She said the children were to remain until 
her ladyship had decided where to send them; and she con- 
firmed their report that his honor was recovering quickly. 
As soon as he was sufficiently well to leave Bowstead he 
was to be brought to London, and married to Lady Ara- 
bella before going abroad to make the grand tour; and as 
a true well-wisher, Mrs. Loveday begged Miss Delavie not 
to hold out when it was of no use, for her ladyship de- 
clared that her contumacy would be the worse for her. 
Aurelia's garrison was, however, too well re-enforced for 
any vague alarms to shake even her outworks, and she only 
smiled her refusal, as in truth Mrs. Loveday must have ex- 
pected, for it appeared that she had secured a maid to at- 
tend on the prisoners, an extremely deaf woman, who only 
spoke in the broken imperfect mode of those who have 
never heard their own voice — deficiencies that made it pos- 
sible that Madge would keep the peace with her. 

Lady Belamour had also found another piece of work for 
Aurelia. A dark cupboard was opened, revealing shelves 
piled with bundles of old letters and papers. There was a 
family tradition that one of the ladies of the Delavie fam- 
ily had been an attendant of Mary of Scotland for a short 
time, and had received from her a recipe for preserving the 
complexion and texture of the skin, devised by the French 
Court perfumer. Nobody had ever seen this precious pre- 
scription; but it was presumed to be in the archives of the 
family, and her ladyship sent word that if Miss Delavie 


230 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


wished to deserve her favor she would put her French to 
some account and discover it. 

A severe undertaking it was. Piles of yellow letters, 
files of dusty accounts, multitudes of receipts, more than 
one old will had to be conned before it was possible to be 
certain they were not the nostrum. In the utter solitude, 
even this occupation would have been valuable, but with 
the little girls about her, and her own and their personal 
property, she had alternative employments enough to 
make it an effort to apply herself to this. 

Why should she? she asked herself more than once; but 
then came the recollection that if she showed herself willing 
to obey and gratify my lady, it might gain her good-will, 
and if Sir Amyas should indeed hold out till Mr. Wayland 
came home. Her heart beat wildly at the vision of hope. 

She worked principally at the letters after the children 
had gone to bed, taking a packet upstairs with her, and 
sitting in the bedroom, deciphering them as best she might 
by the light of the candles that Loved ay had brought her. 

Every morning Loveday appeared with supplies, and 
messages frDm her ladyship, that it was time miss sub- 
mitted ; but she was not at all substantially unkind, and 
showed increasing interest in her captive, though always 
impressing on her that her obstinacy was all in vain. My 
lady was angered enough at his honor having got up from 
his sick bed and gone oft* to Carminster, and if miss did 
not wish to bring her father mto trouble she must yield. 
No, this gladdened rather than startled Aurelia, though her 
heart sunk within her when she was warned that Mr. Way- 
land had been taken by the corsairs, so that my lady would 
have the ball at her own foot now. The term of waiting 
seemed indefinitely prolonged. 

The confinement to the dingy house and court-yard was 
trying to all the three, who had been used to run about in 
the green park and breezy fields; but Aurelia did her best 
to keep her little companions happy and busy, and the 
sense of the insecurity of her tenure of their company aided 
her the more to meet with good temper and sweetness the 
various rubs incidental to their captivity in this close warm 
house in the hottest of summer weather. The pang she 
had felt at her own fretfulness, when she thought she had 
lost them, made her guard the more against giving way to 
impatience if they were troublesome or hard to please. In- 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


231 


deed, she was much more gentle and equable now, in the 
strength of her resolution, than she had been when uplifted 
by her position, yet doubtful of its mysteries. 

Sundays were the most trying time. The lack of occu- 
pation in the small space was wearisome, and Aurelia^ 
heart often echoed the old strains of Tate and Brady, 

** I sigh whene’er my musing thoughts 
Those happy days present, 

When I, with troops of pious friends, 

Thy temple did frequent.” 

She and her charges climbed up to the window above, 
which happily had a broken pane, tried to identify the 
chimes of the church bells by the notable nursery rhyme, 

“ Oranges and lemons, 

Say the bells of St. Clement’s,” etc., 

watch the church-goers as far as they could see them, and 
then came down to such reading of the service and other 
Sunday occupations as Aurelia could devise. On the second 
Sunday of her durance it was such a broiling day that, unable 
to bear the heat of her parlor, she established herself and her 
charges, in a nook of the court, close under the window, 
but shaded by the wall, which was covered with an im- 
mense bush of overhanging ivy, and by the elm-tree in the 
court. Here she made Fay and Letty say their catechism, 
and the Psalm she had been teaching them in the week, and 
then rewarded them with a Bible story, that of Daniel in 
the den of lions. Once or twice the terrier (whose name 
she had learned was Bob) had pricked his ears, and the 
children had thought there was a noise, but the sparrows 
in the ivy might be accountable for a great deal, and the 
little ones were too much wrapped in her tale to be attent- 
ive to anything else. 

“Then it came true!" said Letty. “ His God whom 
he trusted did deliver him out of the den of lions?" 

“ God always does deliver people when they trust Him,^^ 
said Fay, with gleaming eyes. 

“ Yes, one way or the other," said Aurelia. 

“ How do you think He will deliver us?^^ asked Letty; 
“ for I am sure this is a den, though there are ho lions. 

“ I do not know how,^^ said Aurelia, “ but I know He 
will bear us through it, as long as we trust Him and do 


232 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


nothing wrong/ ^ and she looked up at the bright sky with 
hope and strength in her face. 

“ Hark! what^s that?^^ cried Letty, and Bob leaped up 
and barked as a great sob became plainly audible, and 
within the room appeared Mrs. Loveday, her face all over 
tears, which she was fast wiping away as she rose up from 
crouching with her head against the window-sill. 

“ I beg your pardon, ma^am,^^ said she, her voice still 
broken when she rejoined them, ‘‘ but I would not inter- 
rupt you, so I waited within; and oh, it was so like my 
poor old mother at home, it quite overcame me! I did not 
think there was anything so near the angels left on earth. " 

“ Hay, Loveday,'’^ said Fay, apprehending the words in 
a different sense, “ the angels are just as near us as ever 
they were to Daniel, only we can not see them. Are they 
not. Cousin Aura?^ ^ 

“ Indeed they are, and we may be as sure that they will 
shut the lions^ mouths,^ ^ said Aurelia. 

“ Ah! may they,^^ sighed Loveday, who had by this time 
mastered her agitation, and remembered that she must 
discharge herself of her messages, and return hastily to my 
lady^s toilet. 

“ I have found the recipe,^ ^ said Anirelia. “ Here it is. 
And she put into Loveday^s hand a yellow letter, bearing 
the title in scribbled writing, “ Poure Enibelliere et Uan- 
cliire la Pel, de part de Maistre Rcwul, Parfimeur de la 
Boyne Catherine*^’ 


CHAPTER LXXXIL 

LIONS. 

The helmet then of darkness Pallas donned, 

To hide her presence from the sight of man. 

Derby’s Homer. 

The next morning Loveday returned with orders from 
Lady Belamour that Miss Delavie should translate the 
French recipe, and make a fair copy of it. It was not an 
easy task, for the MS. was difficult and the French old; 
whereas Aurelia lived on the modem side of the Academie, 
and her French was that of Fenelon and Racine. 

However, she went to work as best she could in her cool 
comer, guessing at many of the words by light derived 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


233 


from “ Comenius, and had just made out that the chief 
ingredients were pounded pearls and rubies, mixed with 
white of eggs laid by pullets under a year old, during the 
waxing of the April moon, when she heard voices chatter- 
ing in the hall, and a girlish figure appeared in a light 
cloak and calash, whom Loveday seemed to be guiding, 
and yet keeping as much repressed as she could. 

“ Gracious heavens were the first words to be distin- 
guished; “ what a frightful old place; enough to make one 
die of the dismals! I won^t live here when I^m married, I 
promise Sir Amyas! Bless me, is this the wench 

Your ladyship promised to be careful, entreated 
Loveday, while Aurelia rose, with a graceful gesture of ac- 
knowledgment, which, however remained unnoticed, the 
lady apparently considering herself unseen. 

“ Who are these little girls asked she, in a giggling 
whisper. “ Little Waylands? Then it is true,^^ she cried, 
with a peal of shrill laughter. “ There are three of them, 
only L^y Belamour shuts them up here because she canT 
drown them like kittens — I wonder she did not. Oh, what 
sport! WonH I tease her now that I know her secret!’^ 

“ Your ladyship!" entreated Loveday in distress in an 
audible aside, “you will undo me.^^ Then coming for- 
ward, she said, “You did not expect me at this hour, ma- 
dame; but if your French copy be finished, my lady would 
like to have it at once. " 

“ I have written it out once as well as I could, said 
Aurelia, “but I have not translated it; I will find the 
copy.^^ 

She rose and found the stranger full before her in the 
door-way, gazing at her with an enormous pair of sloe-black 
eyes under heavy, inky brows, set in a hard, red-complex- 
ioned face. She burst into a loud, hoydenish laugh as Love- 
day tried to stammer something about a friend of her own. 

“ Never mind, the murder^s out, good Mrs. Abigail,^ ^ 
she cried, “ it is me. I was determined to see the wench 
that has made such a fool of young Belamour. I vow I 
canT guess what he means by it. Why, you are a poor 
pale tallow-candle, without a bit of color in your face. 
Look at me ! Shall you ever have such a complexion as 
mine, with ever so much rouge 

“ I think not,^^ said Aurelia, with one look at the peony 
face. 


234 


LOVE AND LIFE. 

“ Do you know who I am, miss? I am the Lady Bella 
Mar. The Countess of Aresfield is my mamma. I shall 
have Battlefield when she dies, and twenty thousand 
pounds on my wedding-day. The Earl of Aresfield and 
Colonel Mar are my brothers, and a wretched little coun- 
try girl like you is not to come between me and what my 
mamma has fixed for me; so you must give it up at once, 
for you see he belongs to me.^^ 

“Not yet, madame,^^ said Aurelia. 

“ What do you say? Do you pretend that your masquer- 
ade was worth a button?’^ 

“ That is not my part to decide,^^ said Aurelia. “lam 
bound by it, and have no power to break it.^^ 

“ You mean the lawyers! Bless you, they will never 
give it to you against me! You’d best give it up at once, 
and if you want a husband, my mamma has one ready for 

“ I thank her ladyship,” said Aurelia, with simple dig- 
nity, “ but I will not give her the trouble.” 

She glanced at her wedding-ring, and so did Lady Belle, 
who screamed, “ You’ve the impudence to wear that! Give 
it to me. ” 

“ I can not,” repeated Aurelia. 

“ You can not, you insolent, vulgar, low — ” 

“ Hush! hush, my lady,” entreated Loveday. “ Come 
away, I beg of your ladyship!” 

“ Not till I have made that impudent hussy give me 
that ring,” cried Belle, stamping violently. “ What’s that 
you say?” 

“ That your ladyship asks what is impossible,” said 
Aurelia, firmly. 

“ Take that then, insolent minx!” cried the girl, flying 
forward and violently slapping Aurelia’s soft cheeks, and 
making a snatch at her hair. 

Loveday screamed, Letty cried, but Fidelia and Bob 
both rushed forward to Aurelia’s defense, one with her lit- 
tle fists clinched, beating Lady Belle back, the other tear- 
ing at her skirts with his teeth. At that moment a man’s 
step was heard, and a tall, powerful officer was among 
them, uttering a fierce imprecation. “You little vixen, at 
your tricks again,” he said, taking Belle by the waist, 
while she kicked and screamed in vain. She was like an 
angry cat in his arms. “ Be quiet, Belle,” he said, back- 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


235 


ing into the sitting-room. “ Let Loveday compose your 
dress. Recover your senses and I shall take you home: I 
wish it was to the whipping you deserve. 

He thrust her in, waved aside Loveday ^s excuses about 
her ladyship not being denied, and stood with his back to 
the door as she bounced shrieking against it from within. 

I fear this little devil has hurt you, madame,’^ he 

said. 

Not at all, I thank you, sir,^^ said Aurelia, though one 
side of her face still tingled. 

“ She made at you like a little game-cock,^^ he said. I 
am glad I was in time. I followed when I found she had 
slipped away from Lady Belamour^s, knowing that her 
curiosity is only equaled by her spite. By Jove, it is well 
that her nails did not touch that angel face!^^ 

Aurelia could only courtesy and thank him, hoping within 
herself that Lady Belle would soon recover, and wonder- 
ing how he had let himself in. There was something in his 
manner of examining her with his eyes that made her su- 
premely uncomfortable. He uttered fashionable expletives 
of admiration under his breath, and she turned aside in 
displeasure, bending down to Fidelia. He went on, “ You 
must be devilishly moped in this dungeon of a place! Can 
not we contrive something better?^^ 

“ Thank you, sir, I have no complaint to make. Per- 
mit me td see whether the Lady Arabella is better.'’^ 

“ I advise you not. These orbs are too soft and spark- 
ling to be exposed to her talons. Ton my honor, 1 pity 
young Belamour. But there is no help for it, and such 
charms ought not to be wasted in solitude on his account. 
These young lads are as fickle as the weather-cock, and 
have half a dozen fancies in as many weeks. Come now, 
make me your friend, and we will hit on some device for 
delivering the enchanted princess from her durance vile/^ 

‘‘ Thank you, sir, I promised Lady Belamour to make 
no attempt to escape. 

At that moment out burst Lady Belle, shouting with 
laughter; ‘‘Ho! ho! Have I caught you, brother, gal- 
lanting away with miss? What will my lady say? Pretty 
doings !^^ 

She had no time for more. Her brother fiercely laid 
hold of her, and bore her away with a peremptory violence 


236 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


that she could not resist, and only turning at the hall door 
to make one magnificent bow. 

Loveday was obliged to follow, and the children were 
left clinging to Aurelia and declaring that the dreadful 
young lady was as bad as the lions; while Aurelia, glow- 
ing with shame and resentment at what she felt as insults, 
had a misgiving that her protector had been the worse lion 
of the two. 

She had no explanation of the invasion till the next 
morning, when Loveday appeared full of excuses and 
apologies. From the fact of Lady Aresfield’s carriage 
having been used on Aurelia’s arrival, her imprisonment 
was known, and Lady Belle, spending a holiday at Lady 
Belamour’s, had besieged Loveday with entreaties to take 
her to see her rival. As the waiting-woman said, for fear 
of the young lady’s violent temper, but more probably in 
consideration of her bribes, she had yielded, hoping that 
Lady Belle would be satisfied with a view from the win- 
dow, herself unseen. However, from that moment all had 
been taken out of the hands of Loveday, and she verily 
-believed the colonel had made following his sister an excuse 
for catching a sight of Miss Delavie, for he had been mon- 
strously smitten even with the glimpse he had had of her in 
the carriage. And now, as his sister had cut short what he 
had to say, he had written her a billet. And Loveday held 
out a perfumed letter. 

Aurelia’s eyes flashed, and she drew herself up: “ You 
forget, Loveday, I promised to receive no letters!” 

“Bless me, ma’am, they that are treated as my lady 
treats you, are not bound to be so particular as that. ” 

“ Oh, fy, Loveday,” said Aurelia earnestly, “ you have 
been so kind, that I thought you would be faithful. This 
is not being faithful to your lady, nor to me.” 

“It is only from my wish to serve you, ma’am,” said 
Loveday in her fawning voice. “ How can I bear to see a 
beautiful young lady like you, that ought to be the star of 
all the court, mewed up here for the sake of a young giddy 
pate like his honor, when there’s one of the first gentle- 
men in the land ready to be at your feet?” 

“ For shame! for shame!” exclaimed Aurelia, crimson 
already. “ You know I am married. ” 

“ And you will not take the letter, nor see what the 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


237 


poor gentleman means? May be lie wants to reconcile you 
with my lady, and he has power with her 

Aurelia took the letter, and, strong paper though it was, 
tore it across and across till it was all in fragments, no big- 
ger than daisy flowers. There,"" she said, you may tell 
him what I have done to his letter."" 

Loveday stared for a minute, then exclaimed: “ You are 
in the right, my dear lady. Oh, I am a wretch — a 
wretch — "" and she went away sobbing. 

Aurelia hoped the matter was ended. It had given her a 
terrible feeling of insecurity, but she found to her relief 
that Madge was really more trustworthy than Loveday. 
She overheard from the court a conversation at the back 
door in which Madge was strenuously refusing admission 
to some one who was both threatening and bribing her, all 
ill vain; but she was only beginning to breathe freely 
when Loveday brought, not another letter, but what was 
less easy to stop, a personal message from “ that poor gen- 
tleman."" 

‘‘ Loveday, after what you said yesterday, how can you 
be so — wicked?"" said Aurelia. 

“ Indeed, miss, "tis only as your true well-wisher."" 

Aurelia turned away to leave the room. 

‘‘ Yes, it is, ma"am! On my bended knees I will swear 
it,"" cried Loveday, throwing herself on them and catching 
her dress. ‘‘It is because I know my lady has worse in 
store for you!"" 

“ Nothing can be worse than wrong-doing, ""said Aurelia. 
“ Ah! you don"t know. Now, listen, one moment. I 
would not — indeed I would not — if I did not know that he 
meant true and honorable — as he does, indeed he does. He 
is madder after you than ever he was for my lady, for he 
says you have all her beauty, and freshness and simplicity 
besides. He is raving. And you should never leave me, 
indeed you should not, miss, if you slipped out after me in 
Deb"s muffler — and we"d go to the Fleet. I have got a 
cousin there, poor fellow — he is always in trouble, but he 
is a real true parson notwithstanding, and I"d never leave 
your side till the knot was tied fast. Then you would 
laugh at my lady, and be one of the first ladies in the land, 
for my Lord Aresfield is half a fool, and can"t live long, 
and when you are a countess you will remember your poor 
Loveday. "" 


238 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


Let me go. You have said too much to a married 
woman/ ^ said Aurelia, and as the maid began the old 
demonstrations of the invalidity of the marriage, and the 
folly of adhering to it when nobody knew where his honor 
was gone, she said resolutely, “ I shall write to Lady Bela- 
mour to send me a more trustworthy messenger. 

On this Loveday fairly fell on the floor, groveling in her 
wild entreaty that my lady might hear nothing of this, de- 
claring that it was not so much for the sake of the conse- 
quences to herself as to the young lady, for there was no 
guessing what my lady might not be capable of if she 
guessed at Colonel Mar’s admiration of her prisoner. 
Aurelia, frightened at her violence, finally promised not to 
appeal to her ladyship as long as Loveday abstained from 
transmitting his messages, but on the least attempt on her 
part to refer to him, a complaint should certainly be made 
to my lady. 

“ Veiy well, madame,” said Loveday, wiping her eyes. 
‘‘ I only hope it will not be the worse for you in the end, 
and that you will not wish you had listened to poor Love- 
day’s advice.” 

“ I can never wish to have done what I know to be a 
great sin, ” said Aurelia, gravely. 

“ Ah! you little know!” said Loveday, shaking her head 
sadly and ominously. 

Something brought to Aurelia’s lips what she had been 
teaching the children last Sunday, and she answered, 

“ My God, in Whom I have trusted, is able to deliver me 
out of the mouth of the lions, and He will deliver me out 
of thy hand.” 

“Oh! if ever there were one whom He should deliver!” 
broke out Loveday, and again she went away weeping bit- 
terly. 

Aurelia could not guess what the danger the woman 
threatened could be; so many had been mentioned as possi- 
Ijle. A forcible marriage, incarceration in some lonely 
country place, a vague threat of being taken beyond seas to 
t he plantations — all these had been mentioned; but she was 
far more afraid of Colonel Mar forcing his way in and 
carrying her off, and this kept her constantly in a state of 
nervous watchfulness, always listening by day and hardly 
able to sleep by night. 

Once she had a terrible alarm, on a Sunday. Letty 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


239 


came rushing to her, declaring that Jumbo, dear Jumbo, 
and a gentleman were in the front court. Was it really 
Jumbo. ^ Oh, yes, it was a black man. Come and see! 
!No, she durst not, and Fay almost instantly declared that 
Madge had shut them out. The children both insisted 
that Jumbo it was, but Aurelia would not believe that it 
could be anything but an attempt of her enemies. She in- 
terrogated Madge, who had grown into a certain liking for 
one so submissive and inoffensive. Madge shook her head, 
could not guess how such folks had got into the court, was 
sure they were after no good, and declared that my lady 
should hear of all the strange doings, and the letters that 
had been left with her. Oh, no, she knew better than to 
give them, but my lady should see them. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

THE COSMETIC. 

But one more task I charge thee with to-day, 

For unto Proserpine then take thy way, 

And give this golden casket to her hands. 

Morkis. 

Late on that Sunday afternoon, a muffled and masked 
figure came through the house into the court behind, and 
after the first shock Aurelia was reheved to see that it was 
too tall, and moved too gracefully, to belong to Loveday. 

Why, child, what a color you have!^^ said Lady Bela- 
mour, taking off her mask. “ You need no aids to nature 
at your happy age. That is right, cliildren,^^ as they cour- 
tesied and kissed her hand. Go into the house, I wish 
to speak with your cousin. 

Lady BelamouFs unfailing self-command gave her such 
dignity that she seemed truly a grand and majestic dame 
dispensing justice, and the gentle, shrinking Aurelia like a 
culprit on trial before her. 

You have been here a month, Aurelia Delavie. Have 
you come to your senses, and are you ready to sign this 
paper?^^ 

“ No, madame, I can not.^^ 

“ Silly fly; you are as bent as ever on remaining in the 
web in which a madman and a foolish boy have involved 
you?^^ 


240 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


“ I can not help it, madame.^^ 

“ Oh! I thought,^" and her voice became harshly clear, 
though so low, “ that you might have other schemes, and 
be spreading your toils at higher game.-'^ 

“ Certainly not, madame/^ 

“ Your color shows that you understand, in spite of all 
your pretenses. 

“ I have never used any pretenses, my lady,^^ said 
Aurelia, looking up in her face with clear innocent eyes. 

‘‘ You have had no visitors? None?’^ 

“ None, madame, except once when the Lady Arabella 
Mar forced her way in, out of curiosity, I believe, and her 
brother followed to take her away.^^ 

‘‘ Her brother? You saw him?'' Each word came out 
edged like a knife from between her nearly closed lips. 

Yes, madame." 

‘‘ How often?" 

‘‘That once." 

“ That has not hindered a traffic in letters. " 

“ Not on my side, madame. I tore to fragments unread 
the only one I received. He had no right to send it!" 

“ Certainly not. You judge discreetly. Miss Delavie. 
In fact you are too transcendent a paragon to be retained 
here. " Then, biting her lips, as if the bitter phrase had 
escaped unawares, she smiled blandly and said, “ My good 
girl, you have merited to be returned to your friends. You 
may pack your mails and those of the children!" 

Aurelia shuddered with gladness, but Lady Belamour 
checked her thanks by continuing, “ One service you must 
first do for me. My perfumer is at a loss to understand 
your translation of the recipe for Queen Maiy's wash. I 
wish you to read and explain it to her. " 

“ Certainly, madam. " 

“ She lives near Greenwich Park," continued Lady Bela- 
mour, “ and as I would not have the secret get abroad, 
T shall send a wherry to take you to the place early to- 
morrow morning. Can you be ready by eight o'clock?" 

Aurelia readily promised, her heart bounding at the 
notion of a voyage down the river after her long imprison- 
ment and at the promise of liberty! She thought her hus- 
band must still be true to her, since my lady would have 
been the first to inform her of his defection, and as long as 
she had her ring and her certificate, she could feel little 


LOVE AKD LIFE. ^41 

doubt that her father would be able to establish her claims. 
And oh ! to be with him and Betty once more ! 

She was ready in good time, and had spent her leisure m 
packing. When Loveday appeared, she was greeted with 
a petition that the two little girls might accompany her; 
but this was refused at once, and the waiting-maid added 
in her caressing, consoling tone that Mrs. Dove was coming 
with their little brother and sister to take them a drive into 
the country. They skipped about with glee, following 
A urelia to the door of the court, and promising her posies 
of honeysuckles and roses, and she left her dear love with 
them for Amoret and Nurse Dove. 

At the door was a sedan-chair, in which Aurelia was car- 
ried to some broad stone stairs, beside which lay a smartly 
painted, trim-looking boat with four stout oarsmen. She 
was handed into the stern, Loveday sitting opposite to her. 
The woman was unusually silent, and could hardly be 
roused to reply to Aurelia^ s eager questions as she passed 
the gardens of Lincoln's Inn, saw St. PauTs rise above 
her, shot beneath the arch of London Bridge, and beheld 
the massive walls of the Tower with its low-browed arches 
opening above their steps. Whenever a scarlet uniform 
came in view, how the girPs eyes strained after it,, thinking 
of one impossible, improbable chance of a recognition! 
Once or twice she thought of a far more. terrible chance, 
and wondered whether Lady Belamour knew how little con- 
fidence could be placed in Loveday; but she was sure that 
their expedition was my lady’s own device, and the fresh 
air and motion, with all the new scenes, were so delightful 
to her that she could not dwell on any alarms. 

On, on, Redriffe, as the watermen named Eotherhithe, 
was on one bank, the marshes of the Isle of Dogs were gay 
with white cotton-grass and red rattle on the other. Then 
came the wharves and building yards of Deptford, and be- 
yond them rose the trees of Greenwich Park, while the 
river below exhibited a forest of masts. The boat stopped 
at a landing-place to a little garden, with a sanded path, 
between herbs and flowers. “ This is Mistress Darke’s,^’ 
said Loveday, and as a little dwarfish lad came to the gate, 

’ she said, ‘‘We would speak with your mistress. 

“ On your own part?’^ 

“ Prom the great lady in Hanover Square. 

The lad came down to assist in their landing, and took 


242 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


them up the path to a little cupboard of a room, scented 
with a compound of every imaginable perfume. Bottles of 
eveiy sort of essence, pomade, and cosmetic were ranged on 
shelves, or within glass doors, interspersed with masks, 
boxes for patches, bunches of false hair, powder puffs, 
curling-irons, and rare feathers. An alembic was in the 
fire-place, and pen and ink, in a strangely shaped standish, 
were on the table. Altogether there was something un- 
canny about the look and air of the room which made 
Aurelia tremble, especially as she perceived that Loveday 
was both frightened and distressed. 

The mistress of the establishment speedily appeared. 
She had been a splendid Jewish beauty, and still in middle 
age, had great owl-like eyes, and a complexion that did 
credit to her arts; but there was something indescribably 
repulsive in her fawning, deferential courtesy, as she said, 
in a flattering tone, with a slightly foreign accent, ‘‘ The 
pretty lady is come, as our noble dame promised, to ex- 
plain to the poor Cora Darke the great queen^s secret! Ah! 
how good it is to have learning. The lovely young lady 
has them both, the beauty and the learning. What would 
not my clients give for such a skin as hers! And I have 
many more, and greater than you would think, come to 
the poor Corals cottage. There was a countess here but 
yesterday to ask how to blanch the complexion of miladi 
her daughter, who is about to wed a young baronet, beau- 
tiful as Love. Bah! I might as well try to whiten a clove 
gillyflower! Yet what has not nature done for this lovely 
miss?^^ 

‘‘ Shall I read you the paper?’ ^ said Aurelia, longmg to 
end this part of the affair. 

“ Be seated, fair and gracious lady.’’ 

Aurelia tried to wave aside a chair, but Mrs. Darke, on 
the plea of looking over the words as she read, got her 
down upon a low couch, putting her own stout person and 
hooked face in unpleasant proximity, while she asked ques- 
tions, and Aurelia mentioned her own conjectures on the 
obsolete French of the recipe, while she perceived, to her 
alarm, that the woman understood the technical terms 
much better than she did, and that her ignorance could 
have been only an excuse. 

At last it was finished, and she rose, saying it was time 
to return to the boat. 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


243 


“ Nay, madame, that can not be yet/^ said Loveday; 
“ the watermen are gone to rest and dine, and we must 
wait for the tide to shoot the bridge. 

“ Then pray let us go out and walk in Greenwich 
Park,^^ exclaimed Aurelia, longing to escape from this 
den. 

“ The sweet young lady will take something in the 
meantime said Mrs. Darke. 

‘‘ I thank you, I have breakfasted,^^ said Aurelia. 

“ My lady intended us to eat here,” said Loveday in an 
undertone to her young lady, as their hostess bustled out. 
‘‘ She will make it good to Mrs. Darke. ” 

“ I had rather go to the inn — I have money — or sit in 
the park, ” she added as Loveday looked as if going to the 
inn were an improper proposal. ‘‘ Could we not buy a 
loaf and eat in the park? I should like it so much bet- 
ter.” 

“ One cup of coffee,” said Mrs. Darke, entering; the 
excellent Mocha that I get from the Turkey captains. ” 

She set down on a small table a vv^onderful cup of East- 
ern porcelain, and some little sugared cakes, and Aurelia, 
not to be utterly ungracious, tasted one, and began on the 
coffee, which was so hot that it had to betaken slowly. As 
she sipped a soothing drowsiness came over her, which at 
first was accounted for by the warm room after her fresh 
row on the river; but it gained upon her, and instead of 
setting out for her walk she fell sound asleep in the corner 
of the couch. 

‘‘It has worked. It is well, said Mrs. Darke, lifting 
the girPs feet on the couch, and producing a large pair of 
scissors. 

Loveday could not repress a little shriek. 

“ Hush!” as the woman untied the black silk hood, drew 
it gently off, and then undid the ribbon that confined the 
victim ^s abundant tresses. “ Bah! it will be grown by the 
time she arrives, and if not so long as at present, what will 
they know of it? It will be the more agi’eeable surprise! 
Here, put yonder cloth under her head while I hold it 
up. ” 

“ I can not,” sobbed Loveday. “ This is too much. I 
never would have entered my My^s service if I had known 
I was to be set to such as this. ” 


344 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


“ Come, come, Grace Loveday, I know too much of you 
for you to come the Precisian over me. 

“ Such a sweet innocent! So tender-hearted and civil 
too.^" 

“ Bless you, woman, you don^t know what^s good for 
her! She will be a very queen over the black slaves in the 
Indies. Captain Karen will tell you how the wenches 
thank him for having brought ^em out. They could never 
do any good here, you know, poor lasses; but out there, 
where white women are scarce, they are ^’eady to worship 
the very ground they tread upon.^^ 

‘‘ I tell you she ainT one of that sort. She is a young 
lady of birth, a cousin of my lady^s own, as innocent as a 
babe, and there are two gentlemen, if not three, a-dying 
for her. 

“I lay you anything not one of ^em is worth old Mr. 
Van Draagen, who turns his thousands every month. 
‘ Send me out a lady lass,^ says he, ‘ one that will do me 
credit with the governor's lady. ^ Why she will have an 
estate as big as from here to Dover, and slaves to wait on 
her, so as she need never stoop to pick up her glove. He 
has been married twice before, and his last used to send 
orders for the best brocades in London. He stuck at no 
expense. The queen has not finer gowns !^^ 

But to think of the poor child ^s waking up out at sea.^^ 
“ Oh! Mrs. Karen will let her know she may think her- 
self well off. I never let ^em go unless there’s a married 
woman aboard to take charge of them, and that’s why I 
kept your lady waiting till the ‘ Bed Cloud ’ was ready to 
sail. You may tell her ladyship she could not have a bet- 
ter berth, and she’ll want for nothing. I know what is 
due to the real quality, and I’ve put aboard all the toilet, 
and linen, and dresses as was bespoke for the last Mrs. Van 
Daagen, and there’s a civil-spoken wench aboard, that will 
wait on her for a consideration. ” 

‘‘Nay, but mistress,” said Loveday, whispering: “I 
know those that would give more than you will ever get 
from my lady if they found her safe here. ” 

“ Of course there are, or she would not be here now,” 
said Mrs. Darke, with a horrid grin; “ but that won’t do, 
my lass. A lady that’s afraid of exposure will pay you, if 
she pawns her last diamond, but a gentleman — why, he 
gets sick of his fancy, and snaps his fingers at them that 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


245 


helped him!” Then, looking keenly at Loveday, “ YouVe 
not been playing me false, eh?^^ 

‘‘ Oh no, no,'’-’ hastily exclaimed Loveday, cowering at 
the malignant look. 

‘‘If so be you have, Grace Loveday, two can play at 
that game,” said Mrs. Darke composedly. “There, I 
have left her enough to turn back. What hair it is! Feel 
the weight of it! There^s not another head of that mouse- 
color to match your lady’s in the kingdom,” she added, 
smoothing out the severed tresses with the satisfaction of a 
connoisseur. “ No wonder madame could not let this be 
wasted on the plantations, when you and I and Monsieur 
le Friseur know her own hair is getting thinner than she 
would wish a certain colonel to guess. There ! the pretty 
dear, what a baby she looks! I will tie her on a cowl, lest 
she should take cold on the river. See these rings. Did 
your lady give no charge about them?” 

“ I had forgot!” said the waiting- woman, confused; 
“ she charged me to bring them back; old family jewels, 
she said, that must not be carried off to foreign parts; but 
I can not, can not do it. To rob that pretty creature in 
her sleep. ” 

“ Never fear. She’ll soon have a store much finer than 
these ! You fool, I tell you she will not wake these six or 
eight hours. Afraid? There, I’ll do it! Ho! A ruby? 
A love-token, I wager; and what’s this? A carved cupid. 
I could turn a pretty penny by that, when your lady finds 
it convenient, and her luck at play goes against her. Eh! 
is this a wedding-ring? Best take that off; Mr. Van 
Draagen might not understand it, you see. Here they are. 
Have you a patch-box handy for them in your pocket? 
Why what ails the woman? You may thank your stars 
there’s some one here with her wits about her! None of 
your whimpering, I say, here comes Captain Karen.” 

Two sea-faring men here came up the garden path, the 
foremost small and dapper, with a ready address and astute 
countenance. “ All right. Mother Darkness, is our con- 
signment ready? Ay, ay! And the freight?” 

“ This lady has it,” said Mrs. Darke, pointing to Love- 
day; “1 have been telling her she need have no fears f oi- 
lier young kinswoman in your hands, captain. ” 

He swore a round oath to that effect, and looking at the 
sleeping maiden, again swore that she was the choicest 


246 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


piece of goods ever confided to him, and that he knew bet- 
ter than let such an article arrive damaged. Mr. Van 
Draagen ought to come down handsomely for such an extra 
fine sample; hut in the meantime he accepted the rouleau 
of guineas that Loveday handed to him, the proceeds, as 
she told Mrs. Darke, of my lady's winnings last night at 
loo. 

All was ready. Poor Aurelia was swathed from head to 
foot in a large mantle, like the chrysalis whose name she 
bore, the two sailors took her up between them, carried 
her to their boat, and laid her along in the stern. Then 
they pushed off and rowed down the river. Loveday looked 
up and looked down, then sunk on the steps, convulsed 
with grief, sobbing bitterly. ‘‘ She said He could deliver 
her from the mouth of the lions! And He has not," she 
murmured under her breath, in utter misery and hopeless- 
ness. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

DOWN THE RIVER. 

‘ ‘ The lioness, ye may move her 
To give o’er her prey, 

But ye’ll ne’er stop a lover, 

He will And out the way.” 

Elizabeth Delavie and her little brother were stand- 
ing in the bay window of their hotel, gazing eagerly along 
the streets in hopes of seeing the major return, when Sir 
Amy as was seen riding hastily up on his charger, in full ac- 
counterments, with a soldier following. In another mo-, 
ment he had dashed upstairs, and saying, “ Sister, read 
that!" put into Betty's hand a slip of paper on which was 
written in pencil — 

If Sir A. B. would not have his true love kidnapped to 
the plantations, he had best keep watch on the river gate 
of Mistress Darke's garden at Greenwich. No time to 
lose." 

‘‘ Who brought you this?" demanded Betty, as well as 
she could speak for horror. 

‘‘ My mother's little negro boy, Syphax. He says Mrs. 
Loveday, her waiting-woman, gave it to him privately on 
the stairs, as she was about to get into a sedan, telling him. 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


247 


I would give him a crown if he gave it me as I came off 
parade. 

“ Noon! Is there time?^^ 

Barely, but there shall be time. There is no time to 
seek your father. 

‘‘ No^ but I must come with you.^^ 

‘‘ The water is the quickest way. There are stairs near. 
1^11 send my fellow to secure a boat. 

‘‘ I will be ready instantly, while you tell your uncle. It 
might be better if he came. 

Sir Amyas flew to his uncle ^s door, but found him gone 
out, and, in too great haste to inquire further, came down 
again to find Betty in ’ cloak and hood. He gave her his 
arm, and, Eugene trotting after themi they hurried to the 
nearest stairs, remembering in dire confirmation what Betty 
had heard from the school-girl. Both had heard reports 
that young women were sometimes thus deported to become 
wives to the planters in the southern colonies or the West 
Indies, but that such a destiny should be intended for their 
own Aurelia, and by Lady Belamour, was scarcely credi- 
ble. Doubts rushed over Betty, but she remembered what 
the school-girl had said of the captive being sent beymd 
seas; and at any rate, she must risk the expedition being 
futile when such issues hung upon it. And if they failed 
to meet her father, she felt that her presence might prevail 
when the undefined* rights of so mere a lad as her com- 
panion might be disregarded. 

His soldier servant had secured a boat, and they rapidly 
descended the river; Sir Amyas silent between suspense, 
dismay and shame for his mother, and Betty trying to 
keep Eugene quiet by hurried answers to his eager questions 
about all he saw. They had to get out at London Bridge, 
and take a fresh boat on the other side, a much larger one, 
with two oarsmen, and a grizzled old cockswain, with a 
pleasant honest countenance, who presently relieved Betty 
of all necessity of attending to, or answering, Eugene^s 
chatter. 

“ Do you know where this garden is?^^ said she, leaning 
across to Sir Amyas, who had engaged the boat to go to 


Greenwich. 

He started as if it were a new and sudden thought, and 
turning to the steersman demanded whether he knew Mrs. 
Darkens garden. 


248 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


The old man gave a kind of grunt, and eyed the trio in- 
terrogatively, the young officer with his fresh, innocent, 
boyish face and brilliant undisguised uniform, the hand- 
some child, the lady neither young, gay, nor beautiful, but 
unmistakably a decorous gentlewoman. 

“ Do you Know Mrs. Darke^s?^^ repeated Sir Amyas. 

‘‘ Ay, do I? Mayhap I know more about the place than 
you do.^^ 

There was that about his face that moved Betty and the 
young man to look at one another, and the former said, 
“ She has had to do with — evil doings?^^ 

“ You may say that, ma^am. . 

“ Then,^^ they cried in one breath, “ you will help us!^^ 

And in a very few words Betty explained their fears for 
her young sister, and asked whether he thought the warn- 
ing possible. 

“ I\e heard tell of such things said the old man be- 
tween his teeth, and Mother Darkness is one to do ^em. 
Help you to bring back the poor young lass? That we 
will, if we have to break down the door with our fists. And 
who is this young spark? Her brother or her sweetheart 
Her husband said Sir Amyas. “ Her husband from 
whom she has been cruelly spirited away. Aid me to bring 
her back, my good fellow, and nothing would be too much 
to reward you. 

“ Ay, ay, captain, Jem Greenes not* the man to see an 
English girl handed over to the slave-driving, outlandish 
chaps. But I say, I wish you’d got a cloak or summat to 
put over that scarlet and gold of yourn. It’s a regular flag 
to put the old witch on her guard. ” 

On that summer’s day, however, no cloak was at hand. 
They went down the river very rapidly, for the tide was 
running out, and at length Jem Green pointed out the 
neat little garden. On the step sat a woman, apparently 
weeping bitterly. Could it be the object of their search? 
Ho, but as they came nearer, and she was roused so as to 
catch sight of the scarlet coat, she beckoned and ges- 
ticulated with all her might; and as they apj)roached Sir 
Amyas recognized her as his mother’s maid. 

‘‘ You will be in time yet,” she cried breathlessly. 
“Oh! take me in, or you won’t know the sliip!” 

So eager and terrified was she, that but for the old steers- 
man’s peremptory steadiness, her own life and theii’s would 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


249 


have been in much peril, but she was safely seated at last, 
gasping out, “ The ‘ Red Cloud, ^ Captain Karen. They Ve 
been gone these ten minutes. 

“ Ay, ay,^^ gruffly responded Green, and the oars 
moved rapidly, while Loveday with another sob cried, “Oh! 
sir, I thought you would never comeT^ 

“ You sent the warning?^^ 

“Yes, sir, I knew nothing till the morning, when my 
lady called me up. I lie in her room, you know. She 
had given all her orders, and I was to take the sweet lady 
and go down the river with her to Mrs. Darke, the per- 
fuming woman my lady has dealings with about her hair 
and complexion. There I was to stay with her till — ^till 
this same sea-captain was to come and carry her off where 
she would give no more trouble. Oh, sir, it was too much 
; — and my lady knew it, for she had tied my hands so that 
I had but a ^moment to scribble down that scrip, and bid 
Syphax take it to you. The dear lady! she said ‘ her God 
could deliver her out of the mouth of the lion, ^ and I could 
not believe it! I thought it too late!^^ 

“ How can we thanJk you,^^ began Betty; but she was 
choked by intense anxiety, and Jem Green broke in with 
an inquiry where the ship was bound for. Loveday only 
had a general impression of the West Indies, and believed 
that the poor lady^s destined spouse was a tobacconist, and 
as the boat was soon among a forest of shipping where it 
could not proceed so fast. Green had to inquire of neigh- 
boring mariners where the “ Red Cloud was Iving. 

“ The ‘ Red Cloud,^ Karen, weighs anchor for Carolina 
at flood tide to-night. Skipper just going abroad, they 
were told. 

Their speed had been so rapid that they were in time to 
see the boat alongside, and preparations being made to 
draw up some one or something on board. “Oh! that is 
she!^'’ cried Loveday in great agitation. “ TheyVe 
drugged her. No harm done. She donT know it. But 
it is she!^^ 

Sir Amyas, with a voice of thunder, called out, “ Halt, 
villain, at the same moment as Green shouted “ Avast 
there, mate!^^ And their boat came dashing up alongside. 

“ Yield me up that lady instantly, fellow!"^ cried Sir 
Amyas, with his sword half drawn. 

“ And wlio are you, I should like to know,^^ returned 


250 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


Karen, coolly, swaggering at an honest man taking his 
freight and passengers aboard 
“ ril soon show youT^ 

“ Hush, sir,^^ said Green, who had caught sight of pistols 
and cutlasses, let me speak a moment. Look you here, 
skipper, this young gentleman and lady have right on their 
side. This is her sister, and he is her husband. They are 
people of condition, as you see.^*’ 

“ AlPs one to me on the broad seas. 

‘^That may be, said Green, “but you see you canT 
weigh anchor these three hours or more, and what^s to 
hinder the young captain here from swearing against you 
before a magistrate, and getting your vessel searched, eh?’^ 
“ IVe no objection to hear reason if I^m spoke to rea- 
sonably,^^ said Karen, sulkily; “ but I’ll not be bullied like 
a highwayman, when Fve my consignment regularly made 
out, and the freight down in hand, square.” 

“ You may keep your accursed passage-money and wel- 
come,” cried Sir Amyas, “ so youTl only give me my 
wife!” 


“ Show him your certificate,” whispered Betty. 

Sir Amyas had it ready, and he read it loud enough for 
all on the Thames to hear. Karen gave a sneering little 
laugh. “ What’s that to me? My passenger here has her 
berth taken in the name of Ann Davis.” 

“Like enough,” said Loveday, “but you remember 
me, captain, and I can swear that this poor young lady is 
what his honor Sir Amyas says. He is a generous young 
gentleman, and will make it up to you if you are at any 
loss m the matter. ” 

“ A hundred times over!” exclaimed Amyas hotly. 

“Hardly that,” said Karen. “Van Draagen might 
have been good for a round hmidred if he’d been pleased 
mth the commission.” 

“I’ll give you an order — ” began Sir Amyas. 

'“ Wliat have you got about you, sir?” interrupted 
Karen. “ I fancy hard cash better than your orders.” 

The youth pulled out his purse. There was only a 
guinea or two and some silver. “ One does not go out to 
parade with much money about one,” he said, with a 
trembling endeavor for a smile, “ but if you would send 
up to my quarters in Whitehall Barracks — ” 

“Never mind^ sir,” ^aid Karen, graciously. “I see 


LOTE AND LIFE. 


251 


you are in earnest, and 1^11 put’ up with the loss rather 
than stand in the light of a couple of true lovers. Here, 
Jack, lend a hand, and we J1 hoist the young woman over. 
She^s quiet enough, thanks to Mother Darkness. 

The sudden change in tone might perhaps be owing to 
the skipper’s attention having been called by a sign from 
one of his men to a boat coming up from Woolwich, rowed 
by men of the royal navy, who were certain to take part 
with an officer; but Sir Amyas and Betty were only intent 
on receiving the inanimate form wrapped up in its mantle. 
What a meeting it was for Betty, and yet what joy to have 
her at all! They laid her with her head in her sister’s lap, 
and Sir Amyas hung over her, clasping one of the limp 
gloved hands, while Eugene called “ Aura, Aura,” and 
would have impetuously kissed her awake, but Loveday 
caught hold of him. “ Do not, do not, for pity’s sake, 
little master,” she said; “ the potion will do her no harm 
if you let her sleep it off, but she may not know you if you 
waken her before the time.” 

‘‘ Wretch, what have you given her?” cried Sir Amyas. 

“ It was not me, sir, it was Mrs. Darke, in a cup of 
coffee. She vowed it would do no hurt if only she was let 
to sleep six or eight hours. And see what a misery it has 
saved her from 1’ ’ 

“ That is true,” said Betty. Indeed I believe this is 
a healthy sleep. See how gently she breathes, how soft 
and natural her color is, how cool and fresh her cheek is. 
I can not believe there is serious harm done. ’ ’ 

How soon can we reach a physician?^’ asked Sir Amyas, 
still anxiously, of the cockswain. 

I can’t rightly say, sir,” replied he; “ but never you 
fear. They wouldn’t do aught to damage such as she.” 

Patience must perforce be exercised as, now against the 
tide and the stream, the wherry worked its way back. Once 
there was a little stir; Sir Amyas instantly hovered over 
Aurelia, and clasped her hand with a cry of “ My dearest 
life!” The long dark eyelashes slowly rose, the eyes looked 
up for one moment from his face to her sister’s, and then 
to her brother’s, but -the lids sunk as if weighed down, and 
with a murmur, Oh, don’t wake me,” she turned her 
face round on Betty’s lap and slept again. 

Poor darling, she tliinks it a dream,” said Betty. 
‘‘ Eugene, do not. Sir, I entreat! Brother, yes, I will call 


252 


LOVE AKL LIFE. 


you SO if you will only let her alone! See how happy and 
peaceful her dear face is! Do not rouse her into terror 
and bewilderment/^ 

‘‘ If I only were sure she was safe/^ he sighed, hanging 
over, with an intensity of affection and anxiety that 
brought a dew even to the old steersman^s eyes; and he 
kindly engrossed Eugene by telling about the places they 
passed, and setting him to watch the smart crew of the 
boat from the Eoyal Arsenal at Woolwich, which was gain- 
ing on them. 

Meanwhile the others interrogated Loveday, who told 
them of the pretext on which Lady Belamour had sent her 
captive down to Mrs. Darkens. No one save herself had, 
in my lady^s household, she said, an idea of where the 
young lady was. Lady Belamour having employed only 
hired porters except on that night when Lady Aresfield^s 
carriage brought her. This had led to the captivity being 
known to LSly Belle and her brother, and Loveday had 
no doubt that it was the discovery of their being aware of 
it, as well as Jumbo’s appearance in the court, that had 
made her mistress finally decide on this frightful mode of 
ridding herself of the poor girl. The maid was as adroit 
a dissembler as her mistress, and she held her peace as to 
her own part in forwarding (Colonel Mar’s suit, whether 
her lady guessed it or not, but she owned with floods of 
tears how the sight of the young lady’s meek and dutiful 
submission, her quiet trust, and her sweet, simple teaching 
of the children, had wakened into life again a conscience 
long dead to all good, and made it impossible to her to 
carry out this last wicked commission without an attempt 
to save the creature whom she had learned to reverence as 
a saint. Most likely her scruples had been suspected by 
her mistress, for there had been an endeavor to put it out 
of her power to give any warning to the victim. Yet after 
all, the waiting-maid had been too adroit for the lady, or, 
as she fully owned, Aurelia’s firm trust had not been balked, 
and deliverance from the lions had cdme. 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


253 


CHAPTEE XXXV. 

THE RETURH. 

And now the glorious artist, ere he yet 

Had reached tlie Lemnian Isle, limping, returned; 

With aching heart he sought his home. 

Odyssey (Cowper). 

How were they to get the slumbering maiden home? 
That was the next question. Loveday advised carrying her 
direct to her old prison, where she would wake without 
alarm; but Sir Amyas shuddered at the notion, and Betty 
said she could not take her again into a house of Lady Bel- 
amour^s. 

The watermen, who were enthusiastic in the cause, 
which they understood as that of one young sweetheart res- 
cued by the other, declared that they would carry the 
sweet lady between them on the cushions of their boat, laid 
on stretchers; and as they knew of a landing-place near 
the Koyal York, with no need of crossing any great thor- 
oughfare, Betty thought this the best chance of taking her 
sister home without a shock. 

The boat from Woolwich had shot London Bridge im- 
mediately after them, and stopped at the stairs nearest that 
where they landed; and just as Sir Amyas, with an excla- 
mation of annoyance at his unserviceable arm, had re- 
signed Aurelia to be lifted on to her temporary litter, a 
hand was laid on his shoulder, a voice said “ Amyas, what 
means this?^^ and he found himself face to face with a 
small, keen-visaged, pale man, with thick grizzled brows 
overhanging searching dark gray eyes, shaded by a great 
Spanish hat. 

“ Sir! oh, sir, is it you ?^^ he cried, breathlessly; “now 
all will be well 1^^ 

“ I am very glad you think so, Amyas,^^ was the grave 
answer; “ for all this has a strange appearance. 

“ It is my dearest wife, sir, my wife, whom I have just 
recovered after — oh, say, sir, if you think all is well with 
her, and it is only a harmless sleeping potion. Sister — 
Betty — this is my good father, Mr. Wayland. He is as 
good as a physician. Let him see my sweetest life.'’^ 


254 : 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


Mr. Wayland bent over the slumbering figure still in 
the bottom of the boat, heard what could be told of the 
draught by Loveday, whom he recognized as his wife^s at- 
tendant, and feeling Aurelia ^s pulse, said, “ I should not 
think there was need for fear. To the outward eye she is a 
model of sleeping innocence. Well, you may say so/’ 
and ‘‘ She is indeed,^ ^ broke from the baronet and the 
waiting-maid at the same instant; but Mr. Wayland heed- 
ed them little as he impatiently asked, “ Where and how 
is your mother, Amyas?^^ 

“ In health, sir, at home, I suppose,^ ^ said Sir Amyas; 
“ but oh, sir, hear me, before you see her. 

I must, if you walk with me,^^ said Mr. Wayland, 
turning for a moment to bid his servant rewai*d and dis- 
miss his boat^s crew, and see to the transport of liis lug- 
gage; and in the meantime Aurelia was lifted by her bear- 
ers. 

Sir Amyas again uttered a rejoicing, ‘‘We feared you 
were in the hands of the pirates, sir. 

“ So I was; but the governor of Gibraltar obtained my 
release, and was good enough to send me home direct in a 
vessel on the king^s service,” said Mr. Wayland, taking 
the arm his step-son offered to assist his lameness. “Now 
for your explanation, Amyas; only let me hear first that 
my babes are well."’^ 

“ Yes, sir, all well. A^ou had my letter?^ ^ 

“ Telling of that strange disguised wedding? I had, the 
very day I was captured. ” 

By the time they had come to the place where their ways 
parted, Mr. Wayland had heard enough to be so perplexed 
and distressed that he knew not that he had been drawn 
out of the way to Hanover Square, till at the entrance of 
the Royal York, they found Betty asseverating to the land- 
lady that she was bringing no case of small-pox into the 
house; and showing, as a passport of admittance, two little 
dents on the white wrist and temple. * 

At that instant the sound brought Major Delavie hurry- 
ing from his sitting-room at his best speed. There was a 
look of horror on his face as he saw his daughter's senseless 
condition, but Betty sprung to his side to prevent his waken- 
ing her, and Aurelia was safely carried upstairs and laid 
upon her sister's bed, still sleeping, while Betty and I^ove- 
day unloosed her clothes. Her bearers were sent for re- 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


255 


freshment to the bar, and the gentlemen stood looking on 
one another in the sitting-room, Mr. Wayland utterly 
shocked, incredulous of the little he did understand, and 
yet unable to go home, until he should hear more; and the 
major hardly less horrified, in the midst of his relief. “ But 
whereas Belamour?^^ he cried. Your uncle, I mean.^^ 

“ Where?" said Sir Amyas. ‘‘ They said he was gone 
out.^^ 

So they told me! And see here!^^ 

Major Delavie produced Lady Belamour’s note. 

‘‘ A blind cried Sir Amyas, turning away under a 
strange stroke of pain and shame. “Oh! mother, moth- 
er!’ ' and he dashed out of the room. 

Poor Mr. Wayland sat down as one who could stand no 
longer. “ Of what do they suspect her?” he said hoarsely. 

“Sir,” said the good major, “ I grieve sincerely for and 
with you. Opposition to this match with my poor child 
seems to have transported my poor cousin to strange and 
frantic lengths, but you may trust me to shield and guard 
her from exposure as far as may be.” 

Her husband only answered by a groan, and wrung Ma- 
jor Delavie ’s hand, but their words were interrupted by Sir 
Amyas’s return. He had been to his uncle’s chamber, and 
had found on the table a note addressed to the major. 
Within wa-s an inclosure directed to A. Belamour, Esq. 

“ If you have found the way to the poor captive, for pity’s 
sake come to her rescue. Be in the court with your faith- 
ful black by ten o’clock, and you may yet save one who 
loves and looks to you. ” 

On the outer sheet was written: 

“ I distrust this handwriting, and suspect a ruse. In 
case I do not return, send for flargrave, Sandys, Godfrey, 
as witnesses to my sanity, and storm the fair one’s fortress 
in person. — A.B.” 

“It is not my Aureha’s writing,” said the major. 

‘ ‘ Bravest of friends, what has he not dared on her ac- 
count!’’ 

“ This is too much!” cried Mr. Wayland, striving in 
horror against his convictions. “ I can not hear my be- 
loved wife loaded with monstrous suspicions in her ab- 
sence!” 


256 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


“lam sorry to say this is no new threat ever since poor 
Belamour has crossed her path/' said the major. 

“ What have you done, sir?" asked Sir Amyas. 

“ I fear I have but wasted time/' said the major. “ I 
have been to Hanover Square, and getting no admittance 
there, I came back in the hope you might be on the track 
with Betty — as, thank God, you were! The first thing to 
be done now is to find what she has done with Belamour," 
he added, rising up. 

“ That must fall to my share," said Mr. Wayland, pale 
and resolute. “ Come with me, Amyas, your young limbs 
will easily return before the effect of the narcotic has 
passed, and I need fuller explanation." 

Stillness then came on the Delavie party. The major 
went upstairs, and sat by Aurelia's bed gazing with eyes 
dazzled with tears at the child he had so longed to see, and 
whom he found again in this strange trance. A doctor 
came, and quite confirmed Mr. Waylaiid's opinion, that 
the drug would not prove deleterious, provided the sleej) 
was not disturbed, and Betty continued her watch, after 
hearing what her father knew of Mr. Belamour. Slie was 
greatly struck with the self-devotion that had gone with 
open eyes into so dreadful a snare as a madhouse of those 
days rather than miss the least chance of saving Aurelia. 

“ If we go by perils dared, the uncle is the true knight- 
errant," said she to her father. “ I wonder which our 
child truly loves the best!" 

“ Betty!" said her father, scandalized. 

“ Ay, I know. Sir Amyas is a charming boy, but what a 
boy he is! And she has barely spoken with liim or seen 
him, whereas Mr. Belamour has been kind to her for a 
whole twelvemonth. I know what I should do if I were in 
her place. I would declare that I intended to be married 
to the uncle, and would keep to it!" 

“ He would think it base to put the question." 

“ He would; but indeed, dear sir, I think it would be 
but right and due to the dear child herself that she should 
have her free choice, and not be bound forever by a decep- 
tion! Yes, I know the poor boy's despair would be dread- 
ful, but it would be better for them both than such a mis- 
take." 

“ Hush! I hear him knocking at the door, you cruel 
woman," 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


257 


The bedroom opened into the parlor the party had hired;, 
so tliat both could come out and meet Sir Amyas with the 
.door ajar, without relaxing their watch upon the sleeper. 
The poor young man looked pale, shocked, and sorrowful. 
‘‘ Well,' ^ said he, after having read in their looks that 
there was no change, “ he knows the worst." Then, on a 
further token of interrogation, “ It may have been my 
fault; I took him, unannounced, through the whole suite 
of rooms, and in the closet at the end, with all the doors 
open, she was having an altercation, with Mar. He was in- 
sisting on knowing what she had done with " — (he signed 
toward the other room) “ she upbraiding him with faith- 
lessness. They were deaf to an approach, till Mr. Way- 
land, in a loud voice, ordered me back, sa3ring, ‘ it was no 
scene for a son. ' " 

“ I trust it will not end in a challenge?" asked the ma- 
jor, gravely. 

No, my father's infirmity renders him no fighting 
man, and I — I may not challenge my superior officer. " 

“ But your uncle?" said Betty, much fearing that such 
a scene might have led to his being forgotten. 

“ I should have told you. We had not made many steps 
from hence before we met poor J umbo wandering like a 
dog that had lost his master. Mr. Belamour had taken 
the precaution of giving Jumbo the pass-key, and not tak- 
ing him into that house (some day I will pull every brick 
of it down), so he watched till by and by he saw a coach 
come out with all the windows closed, and as his master 
had bidden him in such a case, he kept along on the pave- 
ment near, and never lost sight of it till he had tracked it 
right across the City to a house with iron-barred windows 
inside a high wall. There it went in, and he could not fol- 
low, but he asked the people what place it was, and though 
they jeered at him, he made out that it was as we feai*ed. 
Nay, do not be alarmed, sister, he will soon be with us. 
My poor father shut me out, and I know not what passed 
with my mother, but just as I could wait no longer to re- 
turn to my dearest life, he came out and told me that he 
had found out that my uncle was in a house at Moorfields, 
and he is gone himself to liberate him. He is himself a 
justice of the peace, and he will call for Doctor Sandys by 
the way, that there may be no difficulty. He is gone in 


25S 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


the coach-and-four with Jumbo on the box, so that matters 
will soon be righted. 

And a heroic champion set free/^ said Betty, moving 
to return to her sister, when the others would not be denied 
liaving another look at the sweet slumberer, on whose face 
there was now a smile as if her dreams were marvelously 
lovely; or, as Betty thought, as if she knew their voices even 
in her sleep. 

Sir Amyas had not seen his mother again. He only 
knew that Mr. Waylandhad come out with a face as of one 
stricken to the heart, a sad contrast to that which had greet- 
ed him an hour before, and while the carriage was coming 
round, had simply said, “ I did wrong to leave her.^^ 

It would not bear being talked over, and both son and 
kinsman took refuge in silence. Two hours more of this 
long day had passed, and then a coach stopped at the door. 
Sir Amyas hurried down in his eager anxiety, and came 
back with his uncle, holding him by the hand like a child, 
in his gladness, and Betty came out to meet them in the 
outer room with a face of grateful welcome and outstretched 
hands. 

Sir! sir! you have done more than all of us.^^ 

Yet you and your young champion here were the vic- 
tors,^^ said Mr. Belamour. 

“ Ah, we dared and suffered nothing like you.^^ 

‘‘I hope you did not suffer much,^^ said the major, 
looking at the calm face and neatly ti^ white hair, which 
seemed to have suffered no disarrangement. 

said Mr. Belamour, smiling, “ my little friend 
Eugene, ay, and my nephew himself, are hoping to hear I 
was released from fetters and a heap of straw, but I took 
care to give them no opportunity. I merely told them 
they were under a mistake, and had better take care. I 
gave them a reference or two, but I saw plainly that was of 
no use, though they promised to send, and then I did ex- 
actly as they bade me, so as to deprive them of all excuse 
for meddling with me, letting them know that I could pay 
for decent treatment so long as I was in their hands. ” 

‘‘ Did you receive it?’^ 

‘‘ I was told in a mild manner, adapted to my intelli- 
gence, that if I behaved well, I might eat at the master^s 
table, and have a room with only one inmate. Of the for- 
mer I have not an engaging experience, either as to the 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


259 


fare, the hostess, or the company. Of the latter, happily I 
know little, as I only know that my comrade was to be a 
harmless gibbering idiot, of good birth, poor fellow. How- 
ever, the sounds I heard, and the court I looked into, con- 
vinced me that my privileges were worth paying for.^^ 

He spoke very quietly, but he shuddered involuntarily, 
and Betty, unable to restrain her tears, retreated to her sis- 
ter^’s side. 


CHAPTER XXXVL 

WAKING. 

So Love was still the lord of all. 

Scott. 

The summer sun was sinking and a red glow was on the 
wall above AureHa^s head when she moved again, upon the 
shutting of the door, while supper was being taken by the 
gentlemen in the outer room. 

Presently her lips moved, and she said, “ Sister, not in 
surprise, but as if she thought herself at home, and as Betty 
gently answered, “Yes, my darling child, the same voice 
added, “ I have had such a dream; I thought I was a 
chrysalis, and that I could not break my shell nor spread 
my wings. 

“You can now, my sweet, said Betty, venturing to kiss 
her. 

Recollection came. “ Sister Betty, is it you indeed?'"’ 
and she threw her arms round Bett/s neck, clinging tight 
to her in delicious silence, till she raised her head and said : 
“No, this is not home. Oh, is it all true?” 

“ True that I have you again, my dear, dearest, sweetest 
child,'’'’ said Betty. “ Oh, thank God for it.'’" 

“ Thank God,'’" repeated Aurelia. “ Now I have you 
nothing will be dreadful. But where am I? I thought 
once I was in a boat with you and Eugene, and some one 
else. Was it a dream? I can"t remember anything since 
that terrible old woman made me drink the coffee. You 
have not come there, have you?"" 

“No, dear child, it was no dream that you were in a 
boat. We had been searching everywhere for you, and we 
were bringing you back sound, sound asleep,"" said Betty, 
in her tenderness speeaking as if to a little child. 


260 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


I knew you would/^ said Aurelia; ‘‘ I knew God would 
save me. Love is strong as death, you know/^ she added 
dreamily; ‘‘ I think I felt it all round me in that sleep. 

“ That was what you murmured once or twice in your 
sleep/^ said Betty. 

“ And now oh! it is so sweet to he here and know it is 
you. And wasnT he there too?^^ 

“ Sir Amyas? Yes, my dear. He came for you. He 
and my father and the others are in the other room wait- 
ing for you to wake. 

‘‘ I hear their voices/^ cried Aurelia, with a start, sit- 
ting up. ‘‘Oh! that^s my papa^s voice! Oh! how good it 
is to hear it!^^ 


“ I will call him as soon as I have set you a little in oixier. 
Are you sure you are well, my dearest? No headache?'^ 

“ Quite, quite well. Why, sister, I have not been ill; 
and if I had, I should skip to see you, and hear their voices, 
only I wish they would speak louder! That^s Eugene! Qh! 
they are hushing him. Let me make haste," and she 
moved with an alacrity that was most reassuring. ‘ ‘ But I 
canT understand. Is it morning or evening?" 

“ Evening, my dear. They are at supper. Are not 
you hungry?^ ^ 

“ Oh, yes; I believe I am;" but as she was about to wash 
her hands: “ My rings, where are they? My rings, my 
wedding-ring ? Look in my glove ! " 

“No, they are not there. My dear, they must have 
robbed you! And oh! Aurelia, what have you done to your 
hair?^^ 

“ My hair? It was all there this morning. Sister, it 
was that woman, I remember now, I was not quite sound 
asleep, but I had no power to move or cry out, and the 
woman was snipping and Loveday crying. 

“ Vile creature!" burst out Betty. 

“ My hair will grow!" said Aurelia; “ but I had so 
guarded my wedding-ring — and what will he. Sir Amyas, 
think?" 

Their voices were at this moment heard, and in another 
second Aurelia was held against her father’s breast, as in 
broken words he sobbed out thanks for her restoration, and 
implored her pardon for having trusted her out of his care. 

“ Oh! sir, do not speak sol Dear papa, I have tried 


LOVE AND LIFE. 261 

hard to do you no harm, and to behave well. Please, sir, 
give me your blessing. 

‘‘ God bless you indeed, my child. He has blessed you 
in guarding you as your innocence deserved, though I did 
not. Ah! others are impatient. The poor old father 
comes second now. 

After a few minutes spent in repairing the disorder of 
her dress, and her hands in those of her father and little 
brother, she was led to the outer room where in the twi- 
light there was a rapturous rush, an embrace, a fondhng 
of the hand in the manner more familiar to her than the 
figure from before whom it proceeded. She only said in her 
gentle plaintive tone, ‘‘ Oh, sir, it was not my fault. They 
took away your rings. 

“ Hay,^^ said a voice, new to her, “ here are your rings. 
Lady Belamour. I must trust to your Christian charity to 
pardon her who caused you to be stripped of them. ^ 

The name of Lady Belamour made her start as that of 
her enemy, but a truly familiar tone said, “ You need not 
fear, my kind friend. This is Mr. Wayland, who, to our 
great joy, has returned, and has come to restore your 
jewels.-’^ 

“ Indeed I am very glad yours is not lost,^^said Aurelia, 
not a little bewildered. 

Mr. Wayland said a few words of explanation that his 
wife^s agent at Greenwich had brought them back to her. 

“ Pray let me have them,^^ entreated Sir Amyas; “ I 
must put them on again!” 

‘‘ Stay,” said Major Delavie; “ I can have such things 
done only under true colors and in the full light of day. 
The child is scarcely awake yet, and does not know one 
from the other! Why neither of you so much as knows the 
color of the eyes of the other! Can you tell me, sir?” 

“ Heavenly,” exclaimed the youth, in an ecstatic tone of 
self-defense, which set the major laughing and saying, 
“ My silly maid knows as little which gentleman put on 
the ring.” 

‘‘I do, sir,” said Aurelia indignantly; I know his 
voice and hand quite well,” and in the impulse she quitted 
her father arm and put both hands into those of her 
young adorer, saying, ‘‘ Pray sir, pardon me, I never 
thought to hurt you so cruelly.” 

There was a cry of, “ My own, my dearest life,” and 


262 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


she was clasped as she had been immediately after her 
strange wedding. 

However, the sound of a servant's step made them sepa- 
rate instantly, and Betty begged that the supper might not 
be removed, since it was many hours since her sister liad 
tasted food. 

Sir Amyas and Betty hovered about her giving her what- 
ever she could need, in the partial light, while the others 
stood apart, exchanging such explanations as they could. 
Mr. Wayland said he must report himself to Government 
on the morrow; but intended afterward to take his wife to 
Bowstead, whither she had sent all her children with Mrs. 
Uove. There was a great tenderness in his tone as he spoke 
of her, and when he took leave Mr. Belamour shrugged 
his shoulders, saying, ‘‘ She will come round him again 

“ It is true enough that he ought not to have left her to 
herself, said the major. 

“ You making excuses for her after the diabolical plot 
of to-day?^ ^ said Mr. Belamour; “ I could forgive her all 
but that letter to you.^^ 

“My lady loves her will,’^ quoted the major; “it 
amounts to insanity in some women, I believe. 

“ So I might say does men^s infatuation toward women 
like her,” muttered Mr. Belamour. 

By this time Aurelia had finished her meal, and Betty 
was anxious to carry her olf without any more excitement, 
for she was still drowsy and confused. She biwle her father 
good-night, asking his blessing as of old, but when Mr. 
Belamour kissed her hand and repeated the good-night, she 
said, “ Sir, I ought to have trusted you; 1 am so sorry. 

“It is all well now, my child,” he said, soothingly, 
understanding Betty^s wish; “ sleep, and we will talk it 
over. 

So the happy sisters once more slept in each other ^s 
arms, till in the early summer morning Betty heard the 
whole story from Aurelia, now fully herself, though she 
slumbered again after all was poured into her sister^s 
bosom. 

Betty had sympathized step by step, and felt even more 
strongly than Harriet that the situation had been intoler- 
able for womanhood, and that only Aurelia’s childishness 
could have endured it so long. Only the eldest sister held 
that it would have been right and honorable to have spoken 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


2m 


before flashing out the flame; but when, with many tears 
of contrition, Aurelia owned tliat she luid long thought so, 
and longed to confess it, what could the motherly sister do 
but kiss the tears away, and rejoice that the penance was 
over which had been borne with such constancy and self- 
devotion ! 

Then Betty rose quietly, and after giving thanks, on her 
knees that the gentle spirit had passed through all un- 
scathed, untainted with even the perception of evil, she ap- 
plied herself to the adaptation of one of her morning caps 
to her poor shorn Iambus head. Nor did Aurelia wake 
again till her father came to the door to make sure that all 
was well with his recovered treasure, and to say that Love- 
day would recover for her the box of clothes, which old 
Madge had hidden. 

Loveday had gone back to her mistress, who either had 
not discovered her betrayal, or, as things had turned out, 
could not resent it. 

8o, fresh and blooming, Aurelia came out into the sit- 
ting-room, whence her father held out his arms to her. He 
would have her all to himself for a little while, since even 
Eugene was gone to his daily delight, the seeing the chang- 
ing of the guard. 

“ And now, my child, tell me/^ he said, when he had 
heard a little of her feelings throjugh these adventures, 
‘‘ what would you have me do? Remember, such a wed- 
ding as yours goes for nothing, and you are still free to 
choose either or neither of your swains. 

Oh, papa!^^ in a remonstrating tone. 

“ You were willing to wed your old hermit?^^ 

“ I was content then. He was very kind to me.^^ 

“ Content then, eh? Suppose you were told he was your 
real husband ?^^ 

‘‘ Sir, he is not!^^ cried Aurelia, frightened. 

‘‘ If he were ?^^ 

“ I would try to do my duty,’^ she said, in a choked voice. 

“ Silly child, donT cry. And how, if after these fooEs 
tricks it turns out that the other young spark is bound to 
that red-faced little spitflre and can not have you?^^ 

Papa, donT!^’’ she cried. ‘‘ You know he is my hus- 
band in my heart, and always will be, and . if he can not 
come back to me take me home, and I will try to be a 


2Si 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


good daughter to you/^ and she hid her face on his shoul- 
der. 

‘‘ Poor child, it is a shame to tease her/^ said her fa- 
ther, raising up her face; I only wanted to know which 
of them you would wish to put on the ring again. I see. 
You need not be afraid, you shall have that ruby one; but 
as for the little gold one, wait for that till it is put on in 
church, my dear. Ah! and there’s the flutter of his wings, 
or rather the rattle of his spurs. Now then, young people, 
- you shall not be hindered from a full view of each other’s 
lineaments. It is the flrst time you ever had a real sight of 
each other, neither^ of you being in a swoon, is it not? I 
trust you do not repent upon fuller acquaintance. Aurelia 
got as far as the shoe-buckles once, I believe. ’ ’ 

“ She will get no further this time, sir, if you annihilate 
her with your pleasantry,” said Betty, fully convinced by 
this time. 

‘‘ Ah! young Love has made himself more dazzling than 
ever,” continued the major, too delighted to be stopped. 
“ The fullest dress uniform, I declare; Monsieur le Oapi- 
taine is bent on doing honor to tlie occasion. ” 

‘‘ Would that it were on for no other reason, sir,” said 
Sir Amyas; “ but the king and queen have taken it into 
their heads to go oft' to Kew, and here am I under orders 
to command the escort. I verily believe it is all spite on 
the colonel’s part, for -Russell would have exchanged the 
turn with me, but he sent down special orders for me. I 
have but half an hour to spend here, and when I shall be 
able to get back again Heaven only knows.” 

However, he and Aurelia were permitted to improve that 
half hour to the utmost in their own way, while the major 
and Betty were reading a long and characteristic letter from 
Mrs. Arden, inquiring certainly for her sister’s fate, but 
showing far more solicitude i n proving that she (Harriet 
Arden) had acted a wise, prudent, and sisterly part, and 
that it was most unreasonable and cruel to treat her as ac- 
countable for her sister’s disappearance. It was really 
making her quite ill, and Mr. Arden was like a man— so 
disagreeable about it. 

Betty was very gM this epistle had not come till it was 
possible to laugh at it. She would have sat down to reply 
to it at once, had not a billet been brought in from the 
widow of one of her father’s old brother officers who had 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


265 


heard of his being in town, and begged him to bring his 
daughter to see her, excusing herself for' not waiting on 
Mss Delavie, as she was very feeble and infirm. 

It was a request that could not be .refused, but Aurelia 
was not equipped for such a visit, and shrunk timidly from 
showing herself. So when Mr. Belamour came down it 
was agreed that she should remain at home under his pro- 
tection, in which she could be very happy, though his per- 
son was as strange to her as his voice was familiar. Indeed 
she felt as if a burden was on her mind till she could tell 
him of her shame at having failed in the, trust and silence 
that he had enjoined on her. 

‘‘ My child, he said, “ we have carried it too far. It 
was more than we ought to have required of you, and I 
knew it. I had made up my mind, and told my nephew 
that the first time you really asked I should tell the whole 
truth, and trust to your discretion, while of course he 
wished for nothing more. 

As my sister said, it was my fault. ” 

‘‘ Nay, I think you had good cause to stand on your de- 
fense, and I can not have you grieve over it. You have 
shown an unshaken steadiness under trial since, such as 
ought indeed to be compensation. 

I deserved it all,^^ said Aurelia; ‘‘ and I do hope that 
I am a little wiser and less foolish for it all; a little more 
of a woman/'’ she added, blushing. 

A soul trained by love and suffering, as in the old le- 
gend,’’^ said Mr. Belamour thoughtfully. 

Thoroughly pleasant was her Ute-a-Ute with him, espe- 
cially when she artlessly asked him whether her dear sister 
were not all she had told him, and he fervently answered 
that indeed she was ‘ ^ a perfect lesson to all so-called beau- 
ties of what the true loveliness of a countenance can be. " 

“ Oh, I am so glad,^'’ cried Aurelia. ‘‘T never saw a 
face — a woman’s, I mean — ^that I liked as well as my dear 
sister’s!” 

She was sorry when they were interrupted by a call from 
Mr. W ayland, who had reported himself at the Secretary- 
at-War’, but could do no more that day, and had come to 
inquire for her. He and Mr. Belamour drew apart into a 
window, and conversed in a low voice, and then they came 
to her, and Mr. Wayland desired to know from her where 


266 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


she found the recipe for the cosmetic which had nearly cost 
her so dearly. 

It was in a shelf in the wainscoting, in a sort of little 
study, at that house, said Aurelia. 

“ Among other papers?^^ 

“ Quantities of other papers. 

Of what kind?^^ 

‘‘ Letters, and bills, and wills, and parchments! Oh, so 
dusty! Some were on paper tumbling to pieces, and some 
on tiny slips of parchment.^-’ 

“ And you read them all?^^ 

“ I had to read them to see what they were, as well as I 
could make out, and I sorted them and tied them up in 
bundles. ^ 

‘‘ Can you tell me whether they were Delavie wills?^^ 

“ I should think they were. I know that the oldest of all 
were Latin, and I could make nothing out in them but 
something about Manoriem and Oarminster, and what 
looked like the names of some of the fields at home. 

“ Do you think you could show me those slips 
“ I do not suppose any one has touched them.^^ 

Then, my dear young lady, you would confer a great 
favor on me if you would allow Mr. Belamour and myself 
to escort you to Delavie House and show us these papers. 
I fear it may be alarming and distressing. ^ ^ 

‘‘ Oh, no, sir, I know no harm can happen to me where 
Mr. Belamour is,^^ she said smiling. 

It may be very important,-’^ he said, and she went to 
put on her hood. 

“ Surely,"’^ said Mr. Wayland, the title-deeds can not 
have been left there 

“ No. The title-deeds to the main body of the property 
are at Hargrave '’s. I have seen them, at the time of my 
brother’s marriage; but still this may be what was wanting. ” 
“Yet the sending this child to search is a presumption 
that no such document existed. ” 

“ Of course no one supposed it did,” said Mr. Wayland, 
on the defense again. 

Aurelia was quickly ready in her little hood and kerchief, 
and trim high-heeled shoes. She was greatly surprised to 
find how near she had been to her friends during these last 
few days of her captivity, and when Madge obeyed the sum- 
mons to the door, the old woman absolutely smiled to see 


LOVE AND LIFE. 267 

her safe, and the little terrier danced about her in such 
t)*ansports that she begged to take him back with her. 

She opened the door of the little empty book-room, where 
nothing stood except the old bureau. That, she said, had 
been full of letters, but all the oldest things had been within 
a door opening in the wainscot, which she should never have 
found had not Bob pushed it open in his search for rats, 
and then she found a tin case full of papers and parchments 
much older, she thought, than the letters. She had tied 
them np together, and easily produced them. 

Mr. Wayland handed them to Mr. Belamour, whose legal 
eye was better accustomed to crabbed old documents. A 
conversation that had begun on the way about Fay and 
Letty was resumed, and interested both their father and 
Aurelia so much that they forgot to be impatient, until Mr. 
Belamour looked up from his examination saying, “ This 
is what was wanting. Here is a grant in The 12th year of 
Henry HI. to Guglielmus ab Vitd and the heirs male of his 
body of the manor, lying without the city of Carminster, 
and here are three wills of successive lords of Delavie ex- 
pressly mentioning heirs male. Now the deeds that I have 
seen do not go beyond 1539, when Henry Delavie had a 
grant of the Grange and lands belonging to Carminster 
Abbey — the place, in fact, where the Great House stands, 
and there is in that no exclusion of female heirs. But the 
manor house can certainly be proved to be entailed in the 
male line alone, according to what was, I believe, the tra- 
dition of the family. 

‘‘ There is no large amount of property involved, I 
fear,^^ said Mr. Wayland. 

‘‘ There is an old house, much out of repair, and a few 
farms worth, may be, £200 a year, a loss that will not be 
material to you, sir, I hope. 

“ Do you mean — said Aurelia, not daring to ask fur- 
ther. 

‘‘I mean, my dear young lady,^’ said Mr. AVayland, 
“ that your researches have brought to light the means of 
doing tardy justice to your good father. 

“ His right to the manor house is here established,^^ ex- 
plained Mr. Belamour. “ It will not be a matter of favor 
of my lady^s, but as my brother supposed, he ought to have 
been put in possession on the old lord^s death. 

“ And Eugene will be a gentleman of estate,” cried Au- 


268 


LOVE ANI) LIFE. 


relia, joyously. ‘‘ Nor will any one be able to drive out 
my dear father! Oh! how happy I am.""^ 

Both she and Mr. Bel amour spared Mr. Wayland the 
knowledge of my lady^s many broken promises, and indeed 
she was anxious to get back to the Royal York, lest 
her father and sister should have returned, and think her 
again vanished. 

They all met at the door, and much amazed were the 
major and Betty to encounter her with her two squires. 
Mr. Wayland took the major to show him the parchments. 
Betty had her explanation from her sister and Mr. Bela- 
mour. 

“ You actually ventured back to that dreadful house,^^ 
she said, looking at them gratefully. 

‘‘ You see what protectors I had,^^ said Aurelia, with a 
happy smile. 

“ Yes,'’^ said Betty, “ I have been longing to say — only 
I can not,^^ for she was almost choked by a great sob, 
“ how very much we owe to you, sir. I could say it better 
if I did not feel it so much. And she held out her hand. 

You can not owe to me a tithe of what I owe to your 
sister, said Mr. Belamour, “ and through her to you, 
madame. Much as nature had done for her, never would 
she have been to the miserable recluse the life and light- 
bringing creature she was, save for the ‘ sister ^ she taught 
me to know and love, even before I saw her.^^ 

A wonderful revelation here burst on Aurelia, the at least 
half-married woman, and she fled precipitately, smiling to 
herself in ecstasy, behind her great fan. 

Betty, never dreaming of the drift of the words, so 
utterly out of the reach of love did she suppose herself, 
replied, composedly, ‘‘ Our Aurelia is a dear good girl, and 
I am thankful that through all her trials she has so proved 
herself. I am glad she has been a comfort to you, sir. 
She— 

“ And will not you complete the cure, and render the 
benefit lasting?^ ^ said Mr. Belamour, who had never let go 
the hand she had given him in gratitude, and now gave it 
a pressure that conveyed, for the first time, his meaning. 

“ Oh!^^ she cried, trying to take it away, ‘‘ your kind- 
ness and gratitude are leading you too far, sir. A hideous 
old fright like me, instead of a lovely young thing like her! 
It is an absurdity.^' 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


2C9 

“ Stay, Miss Delavie. Remember that your Aurelia^s 
roses and lilies were utterly wasted on me; I never thought 
whether she was beautiful save when others raved about 
her. I never saw her till yesterday; but the voice, the 
goodness, the amiability, in fact all that I did truly esteem 
and prize in her I had already found matured and mel- 
lowed together with that beauty of countenance which is 
independent of mere skin-deep complexion and feature. 
You know my history, and how far I am from being able 
to offer you a fresh untouched young heart, such as my 
nephew brings to the fair Aurelia; but the devotion of my 
life will be yours if you will accept it.^^ 

‘ ‘ Sir, I can not listen to you. You are very good, but 
I can never leave my father. Oh, let me go away!^^ 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

MAKING THE BEST OF IT. 

At last the queen said, “ Girl, I bid thee rise. 

For now thou hast found favor in mine eyes, 

And I repent me of the misery 

That in this place thou hast endured of me, 

Altho’ because of it the joy indeed 

Shall now be mine, that pleasure is thy meed.” 

Morris. 

Those were evil times, and the court examples were 
most corrupting, so that a splendid and imperious woman 
like Urania, Lady Belamour, had found little aid from 
public opinion when left to herself by the absence of her 
second husband. Selfish, unscrupulous, and pleasure-lov- 
ing she was by nature, but during Sir Jovian Belamour -s 
lifetime she had been kept within bounds. Then came a 
brief widowhood, when debt and difficulty hurried her into 
accepting Mr. Wayland, a thoughtful scientific man, whose 
wealth had accumulated without much volition of his own 
to an extent that made her covet his alliance. Enthralled 
by her charm of manner, he had not awakened to the per- 
ception of what she really was during the few years that 
had elapsed before he was sent abroad, and she refused to 
accompany him. 

Then it was that wealth larger than she had before com- 
manded, and a coui’t appointment, involved her in more 


270 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


dangerous habits. Her debts, both of extravagance and of 
the gaming table, were enormous, trenching hard on the 
Delavie property, and making severe inroads on Mr. Way- 
land's means; but the Belamour estates being safely tied 
up, she had only been able to borrow on her dower. She 
had sinned with a high hand, after the fashion of the time, 
and then, in terror at the approaching return of her hus- 
band, had endeavored to conceal the ravages of her ex- 
travagance by her bargain for her son's hand. 

The youth, bred up at a distance, and then the compan- 
ion of his step-father, had on his return found his home 
painfully altered in his two years' absence, and had been 
galled and grieved by the state of things, so that even apart 
from the clearing of his prospects, the relief was great. 
The quarrel with Colonel Mar that Mr. Wayland had inter- 
rupted was not made up. There was no opportunity, for 
Mr. Wayland at once removed his family to Bowstead, 
there to remain while he transacted his business in London. 

Moreover Mr. Belamour and Mr. Wayland agreed in 
selling the young baronet's commission. The major al- 
lowed that it was impossible that he should remain under 
the command of his present colonel, but regretted that he 
should not continue in the service, declaring it the best 
school for a young man, and that he did not want to see his 
son-in-law a muddle-brained sporting country squire. He 
would have had Sir Amyas exchange into the line, and see 
a little service before settling down, but Maria Theresa 
had not as yet set Europe in a blaze, and in the absence of 
a promising war Sir Amyas did more incline to his uncle's 
representations of duties to tenants and to his country, and 
was even ready to prepare himself for them when he 
should be of sufficient age to undertake them. However, 
in the midst of the debates a new scheme was made. Mr. 
Belamour had been called upon and welcomed by his old 
friends, who, being men of rank and influence, had risen in 
life while he was immured at Bowstead. One of these had 
just received a dijflomatic appointment at Vienna, and in 
spite of insular ignorance of foreign manners was at a loss 
for a capable suite. Mr. Belamour suggested Major Hela- 
vie, as from his long service in Austria likely to be very 
useful. The envoy caught at the idea, and the thought of 
once more seeing his old comrades enchanted the major, 
whose only regret was that his hero, Prince Eugene, had 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


271 


been dead three years; but to visit his grave would be some- 
thing. Appointments ran in families, so that nothing 
could be easier than to obtain one for the young baronet; 
and though Mr. Belamour did not depend on his own 
health enough to accept anything, he was quite willing to 
Join the party, and to spend a little time abroad, while his 
nephew was growing somewhat older, making an essay of 
his talents^ and at any rate putting off the commencement 
of stagnation. Thus matters settled themselves, the only 
disappomted member of the family being Mrs. Arden, who 
thought it very hard that she could not stir any one up to 
request an appointment of her husband as chaplain — not 
even himself ! 

Mr. Wayland was at once called upon to go out to 
America to superintend the defenses of the Canadian fron- 
tier, and he resolved on taking his family out, obtaining 
land, and settling there permanently. He would pay all 
my lady’s debts, but she should never again appear in Lon- 
don society, and cruel exile as it must seem to her, he 
trusted that his affection and tenderness would in time 
reconcile her to the new way of life, knowing as she did 
that he had forgiven much that had made him look like a 
crusned and sorrowful man in the midst of all the successes 
and the honors he received from his country. 

She remained quietly at Bowstead, and none of them saw 
her except her son and the major, to the latter of whom 
her husband brought a message that she would esteem it a 
favor if he would come and visit her there, the day before 
he returned to Carminster. Very much affected, the good 
major complied with her request, went down with Mr. 
Wayland and spent a night at Bowstead. 

He found that she had accepted her fate with the good 
grace of a woman whose first instinct was not to make her- 
self disagreeable. She was rather pale, and not ‘‘ made 
up” in any way, but exquisitely though more simply 
dressed, and more beautiful than ever, her cousin thought, 
as he always did whenever he came into her presence. She 
was one of those people whose beauty is always a fresh sur- 
prise, and she was far more self-possessed than he was. 

“ So, Cousin Harry, where am I to begin my congratula- 
tions! . I did you an unwitting service when I sent your 
daughter to search among those musty old parchments. I 
knew my father believed in the existence of some such 


272 


LOVE AKD LIFE. 


document, but I thought all those hoards in Delavie House 
were devoid of all legal importance, and had been sifted 
again and again. Besides, I always meant to settle that old 
house upon you.^^ 

I have always heard so, cousin, he answered. 

“ But it was such a mere trifle,^ ^ she added, “ that it 
never seemed worth while to set the lawyers to work about 
that alone, so I waited for other work to be in hand.-’^ 

“ There is a homely Scottish proverb, my lady, which 
declares that the scrapings of the muckle pot are worth the 
wee pot fu\ A mere trifle to you is atfluence to us.^^ 

‘‘I am sincerely rejoiced at it, Harry (no doubt she 
thought she was), ‘‘ you will keep up the old name, while 
my scrupidous lord and master gives up my poor patrimony 
to the extortionate creditors for years to come. It is well 
that the young lovers have other prospects. So Harry, 
you see after all, I kept my word, and your daughter is 
provided for,^^ she continued with an arch smile. “ Pretty 
creature, I find my son bears me more malice than she does 
for the robbery that was perjxjtrated on her. It was too 
tempting, Harry. Nature will repair her loss, but at our 
time of life we must beg, borrow, or steal. ^ ^ 

That was the least matter, said the major gravely. 

“ This is the reason why I wished to see you,^^ said my 
liidy, laying her white hand on his, ‘ ‘ I wanted to explain. 

“ Cousin, cousin, had not you better leave it alone?^^ 
said Major Delavie. “You know you can always talk a 
poor man out of his senses at the moment. 

“ Yet listen, Harry, and understand my troubles. Here 
was I pledged, absolutely pledged, to give my son to Lady 
Aresfield's daughter. I do not know whether she may not 
yet sue me for breath of contract, though Wayland has re- 
paid her the loans she advanced me; and on the other hand, 
in spite of all my precautions. Mar had obtained a sight of 
your poor daughter, and I knew him well enough to be 
aware that to put her entirely and secretly out of his reach 
was the only chance of preserving her from his pursuit. I 
had excellent accounts of the worthy man to whom I meant 
her to be consigned, and I knew that when she wrote to you 
as a AVest Indian queen you would be able to forgive your 
poor cousin. I see what you would say, but sending her 
to you was impossible, since I had to secure her both from 
Amyas and from Mar. It would only have involved you 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


273 


in perplexities innumerable, and might have led even to 
bloodshed! I may not' have acted wisely, but weak women 
in difficulties know not which path to choose. 

“ There is always the straight one,'^ said he. 

“ Ah! you strong men can easily say so, but for us poor 
much-tried women! However,^ ^ she said, suddenly chang- 
ing her tone, “ Love has checkmated us, and I rejoice. 
Your daughter will support the credit of the name! I am 
glad the new Lady Belamour will not be that little 
termagant milk-maid Belle, whom circumstances com- 
pelled me to inflict upon my poor boy! The title will be 
your daughter's alone. I have promised my husband that 
in the New World I will sink into plain Mrs. Wayland.^^ 
Then with a burst of genuine ’feeling she exclaimed, He 
is a good man, Harry. 

He is indeed , XJrania. I believe you will yet be happier 
than you have ever been.'’^ 

‘‘ What, among barbarians who never saw a loo-table, 
and get the modes three months too late ! And you are 
laughing at me, but you see I am a poor frivolous being, 
not sufficient to myself like your daughters! They say 
Aurelia was as sprightly as a spring butterfly all the time 
she was shut up at Bowstead with no company save the 
children and old Belamour!^' 

They are lovely children, madame; Aurelia dotes on 
them, and you will soon find them all you need.^^ 

“ Their father is never weary of telling me so. He is 
never so happy as when they hang about him and tell him 
of Cousin Aura, or Sister Aura as they love to call her. 

It was charming to see them dance round her when 
he brought them to spend the day with her. Mr. Wayland 
brought his good kinswoman, who will take charge of them 
on the voyage, and Aurelia was a little consoled at the 
parting by seeing how tender and kind she is with them.'’'’ 

Ah! If I do not hate that woman it will be well, for 
she is as much a duenna for me as governess for the chil- 
dren! Heigh-ho! what do not our follies bring on us? 
We poor creatures should never be left to the great world.'’'’ 

The pretty air of repentance was almost irresistible, well 
as the major knew it for the mood of the moment, as- 
sumed as what would best satisfy him.^ 

‘‘ I rejoice, she went on, “ in spite' of my lovely daugh- 


274 


LOVE AND LIFE. 


ter- in-law discretion, she will be well surrounded with 

guardians. Has the excellent Betty consented 

“ At last, madame. My persuasions were vain till she 
found that Mr. Belamour would gladly come with us to 
Austria, and that she should be enabled to watch over both 
her young sister and me. ^ 

‘‘ There, again, I give myself credit, Harry. Would the 
sacred flame ever have awakened in yonder misanthrope 
had I not sent your daughter to restore him to life?^^ She 
spoke playfully, but the major could not help thinking she 
had persuaded herself that all his present felicity was 
owing to her benevolence, and that she would persuade 
him of it too, if she went on much longer looking at him 
so sweetly. He toould not tax her with the wicked note 
she had written to account for Mr. Belamour^ s disappear- 
ance, and which she had forgotten; he felt that he could 
not impel one, whom he could not but still regard with ten- 
derness, to utter any more untruths and excuses. 

“ By the bye,'’^ she added, ‘‘ does your daughter take my 
waiting-maid after all? I would have forgiven her, for she 
is an admirable hair-dresser, but Wayland says he can not 
have so ingenious a person in his house; though after all I 
do not see that she is a bit worse than others of her condi- 
tion, and she herself insists on trying to become Aurelia ^s 
attendant, vowing that the sight of her is as good as any 
Methodist sermon 

Precisely, madame. We were all averse to taking her 
with us, but Aurelia said she owed her much gratitude; 
and she declared so earnestly that the sight of my dear 
child brought back all the virtuous and pious thoughts she 
had forgotten, that even Betty^s heart was touched, and 
she is to go with us, on trial. 

‘‘Oh! she is as honest as regards money and jewels as 
ever I knew a waiting-maid, but for the rest I Lady Bela- 
mour shrugged her shoulders. “ However, one is as good 
as another, and at least she will never let her lady go a 
fright! See here, Harry. These are the Delavie jewels: I 
shall never need them more: carry them to your daugh- 
ters.^^ 

“Nay, your own daughters, Urania. 

“ Never mind the little wretches. Their father will pro- 
vide for them, and they will marry American settlers in 
the forests. What should they do with court jewels? It 


LOYE AND LIFE. 


275 


is his desire. See here, this suit of pearls is what I wore 
at my wedding with Amyas’s father; I should like Aurelia 
to be married in them. Farewell, Harry, you did better 
for yourself than if you had taken me. Yet may be I 
might have been a better woman — She stopped short as 
she looked at liis honest face, and eyes full of tears, 

‘‘ No, Urania,'’^ he said, “ man^s love could not have 
done for you what only another Love can do. May you 
yet find that and true Life. 

The sisters were not married at the same time. Neither 
Mr. Belamour nor his Elizabeth could endure to make part 
of the public pageant that it was thought well should mark 
the real wedding at Bowstead. So their bans were put 
up at St. Clement Danes, and one quiet morning they 
slipped out, with no witnesses but the major, Aurelia, and 
Eugene, and were wedded there in the most unobtrusive 
manner. 

As to the great marriage, a month later at Bowstead, 
there was a certain book-seller named Richardson, who by 
favor of Hargrave got a view of it, and who is thought 
there to have obtained some ideas for the culminating wed- 
ding of his great novel. 

A little later, the following letter was written from the 
excellent Mrs. Montagu to her correspondent Mrs. Eliza- 
beth Carter. “ There was yesterday presented, preparatory 
to leaving England for Vienna, the young Lady Belamour, 
incomparably the greatest beauty who has this year ap- 
peared at Court. Every one is running after her, but she 
appears perfectly unconscious of the furore she has excited, 
and is said to have been bred up in all the simplicity of the 
countiy, and to be as good as she is fair. Her young hus- 
band, Sir Amyas Belamour, is a youth of much promise, 
and they seem absolutely devoted, with eyes only for each 
other. They are said to have gone through a series of ad- 
ventures as curious as they are romantic; and indeed, when 
they made their ajDpearance there was a general whisper, 
begun by young Mr. Horace Walpole, of 

‘ Cupid and Psyche. ’ 


THE end. 


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210 Readiana: Comments on Cur- 
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216 Foul Play 20 

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Part T 10 

578 Mathias Sandorf. Illustrated. 

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578 Mathias Sandorf. Illustrated. 
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111 The Little School-master Mark. 

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Hill 20 

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’Some of Our Girls. Mrs. C. J. 
£iloart. 20 


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156 “For a Dream’s Sake.” Mrs. 

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160 Her Gentle Deeds. Sarah Tyt- 

ler 10 

161 The Lady of Lyons. Founded 

on the Play of that title by 

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174 Under a Ban. Mrs. Lodge. 20 

176 An April Day. Philippa Prit- 

tie Jephson 10 

178 More Leaves from the Journal 
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182 The Millionaire .' 20 

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187 The Midnight Sun. Fredrika 

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198 A Husband’s Stoiy 10 

203 John Bull and His Island. Max 
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218 Agnes Sorel. G. P. R. James. . 20 

219 Lady Clare : or, The Master of 

the Forges. From French of 

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242 The Two Orphans. D’Ennery. 10 
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257 Beyond Recall. Adeline Ser- 
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266 The Water-Babies. Rev. Chas. 

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274 Alice, Grand Duchess of Hesse, 
Princess of Great Britain and 
Ireland. Biographical Sketch 

and Letters 10 

279 Little Goldie : A Story of Wom- 
an’s Love. Mrs. Sumner Hay- 
den 20 

285 The Gambler’s Wife ‘20 

289 John Bull’s Neighbor in Her 
True Light. A “ Brutal Sax- 
on ” 10 

311 Two Years Before the Mast. R. 

H. Dana, Jr 20 

313 The Lover's Creed. Mrs. Cash- 
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322 A Woman’s Love-Story 10 

323 A Willful Maid 30 

329 The Polish Jew. (Translated 

from the French by Caroline 
A. Merighi.) Erckmann-Chat- 
rian 10 


THE SEASIDE LIBR ART. ^Pocket Edition. 


Miscclfaneous— Continued. 

830 May Blossom ; or, Between Two 

Loves. Margaret Lee 

334 A Marriage of Convenience. 
Harriett Jay 

835 The White Witch 

338 The Family Difficulty. Sarah 

Doudney 

340 Under Which King? Compton 

Reade 

S41 Madolin Rivers; or. The Little 
Beauty of Red Oak Seminary. 

Laura Jean Libbey 

347 As Avon Flows. Henry Scott 

Vince , 

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352 At Any Cost. Edward Garrett. 

354 The Lottery of Life. A Story 

of New York Twenty Years 
Ago. John Brougham 

355 The Princess Dagomar of Po- 

land. Heinrich Felbermann. 

356 A Good Hater. Frederick Boyle 

365 George Ctiristy; or. The For- 

tunes of a Minstrel. Tony 
Pastor 

366 The Mysterious Hunter; or, 

The Man of Death. Capt. L. 

C. Carleton 

369 Miss Bretherton. Mrs. Hum- 
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374 The Dead Man’s Secret. Dr. 
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381 The Red Cardinal. Frances 

Elliot 

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383 Introduced to Society. Hamil- 

ton Aid 6 

387 The Secret of the Cliffs. Char- 
lotte French 

889 Ichabod. A Portrait. Bertha 

Thomas 

399 Miss Brown. Vernon Lee 

403 An English Squire. C. R. Cole- 
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405 My Friends and I. Edited by 

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406 The Merchant’s Clerk. Samuel 

Warren 

407 Tylney Hall. Thomas Hood . . . 
426 V^^nus’s Doves. Ida Ashworth 

Taylor 

430 A Bitter Reckoning. Author 

of “By Crooked Paths ’’ 

432 The Witch’s Head. H. Rider 
Haggard 

435 Klytia : A Story of Heidelberg 

Castle. George Taylor 

436 Stella. Fanny Lewald 

441 A Sea Change. Flora L. Shaw. 

442 Ranthorpe. George Henry 

Lewes 

44J3 The Bachelor of the Albany... 
452 In the West Countrie. May 
Crommelin 


The Russians at the Gates of 

Herat. Charles Marvin 10 

A Week of Passion; or. The 
Dilemma of Mr. George Bar- 
ton the Younger. Edward 

Jenkins 20 

Alice’s Adventures in Wonder- 
land. Lewis Carrol 

With forty-two illustrations 

by John Tenniel • . .20 

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of a Sewing-Girl. Charlotte 

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Louisa. Katharine S. Macquoid 20 

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Tinted Vapours. J. Maclaren 

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Society in London. A Foreign 

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Colonel Enderby’s Wife. Lucas 

20 

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Curly : An Actor’s Story. John 

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A North Country Maid. Mrs. 

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Lancelot Ward, M.P. George 

Temple 10 

My Wife’s Niece. By the author 
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Primus in Indis, M. J. Colqu- 

houn 10 

Wedded Hands; Author of 
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457 

20 

10 

20 462 

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^ 510 

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504 

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518 

20 519 

526 

10 

532 

lO 536 

40 545 

20 546 

10 533 

20 

20 571 

10 575 

10 KQ1 

20 

20 

m 583 

10 584 

20 

20 ““ 

20 612 

20 

614 

20 624 

10 

628 

20 


TEE SEASIDE LIBRARY, — Pocket Edition. 


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637 What’s Hfe Offence? 20 

641 The Rabbi’s Spell. Sttiart 0. 

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644 A Girton Girl. Mrs. Annie Ed- 
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652 The Lady with the Rubies. E. 

Marlitt 20 

654 “ Us.” An Old-fashioned Story. 

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662 The Mystery of Allan Grale. 

Isabella Fy vie Mayo 20 


675 Mrs. Dymond. Miss Thackeray 20 
677 Griselda. Author of “ A Wom- 


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668 Half-Way. An Anglo-French 
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679 Where Two Ways Meet. Sarah 

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681 A Singer’s Story. May Laffan. 10 

683 The Bachelor Vicar of New^- 

forth. Mrs. J. Harcourt-Roe. 20 

680 Fast and Loose. Arthur Grif- 

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684 Last Days at Apswich 10 

686 Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and 

Mr. Hyde. Robert Louis 
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The current number of The New 
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bewildering even to those who possess 
a quick eye to the subject that is so 
widely fa.scinating. The colored first 
page of the cover is too attractive to 
such people to be resisted. The Fash- 
ion Colored Supplement forms the 
frontispiece to tne present number.— 
New England Journal of Agriculture. 

We have received the last number of 
The New York Fashion Bazar, pub- 
lished by George Munro, New York 
City, the yearly subscription of which 
is only $3. Each number has a large 
colored fashion supplement, contain- 
ing New York and Paris fashions, and 
the book is full of illustrations of every 
conceivable article of ladies’ attire and 
descriptions how to make the same, 
besides serial stories and sketches and 
much miscellaneous matter,— Mdwe 
Farmer. 

The New York Fashion Bazar is f 
per copy. Subscription price $3.00 pei 


f THE PRESS: 

. We have received the last number of 
The New York Fashion Bazar, and at 
a hasty glance we see it is an interest- 
ing magazine. Its fashions are useful 
to those ladies who do their own dress- 
making, or even decide how they shall 
be made, and its stories are fascinat- 
ing. What more can we say? Address 
George Munro, 17 Vande water Street, 
N. Y. — Worcester [Mass.] Chronicle. 

The New York Fashion Bazar, pub- 
lished by George Munro, is full of fash- 
ions and reading. It seems to be very 
full, and to be well adapted to the end 
sought. The yearly subscription is 
$3.(W, or 25 cents a number. It is very 
large, containing seventy-four pages, 
large size, — Wilmington Morning 
Star. 

The New York Fashion Bazar con- 
tains an attractive variety of literary 
entertainments, stories, poems, sketch- 
es. etc., in addition to the display of 
ladies’ fashions which are its chief 
study. These are set forth with an 
array of pictures and descriptions 
which should leave nothing to doubt 
regarding the newest styles. The se- 
lection of embroidery patterns offers a 
tempting choice for artistic tastes. 
New York: George Munro. — Home 
Journal. 

The New York Fashion Bazar, with 
supplement, is one of the most inter- 
esting and ornamental periodicals that 
have reached the Herald office. It is 
issued by the publisher of the Fireside 
Companion and Seaside Library . — 
Chicago Herald. 

The New York Fashion Bazar, pub- 
lished by George Munro, for this month, 
is a marvel of beauty and excellence. 
It is full of entertaining reading, and 
of the newest and most fashionable 
patterns and designs. It must be seen 
to be appreciated.— C/iwrc/i Press. 

ir sale by all newsdealers, price 25 cents 
year. Address 


GEORGE MUNRO, Miinro’s Publishing House, 


P. O. Box 3751. 


17 to 27 Vandewater Street, N. Y. 


THE CELEBRATED 


SOBnlES 


GRAND, SQUARE AND UPRIGHT PIANOS. 


FIRST PRIZE 

DIPLOMA. 


Centennial Exnibl- 
tion, 1876 ; Montreal, 
1881 and 1882. 


The enviable po- 
sition Sohmer & 
Co. hold among 
American Piano 
Manufacturers is 
solely due to the 
merits of their in- 
struments. 



They are used 
in Conservato- 
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Seminaries, on ac- 
count ot their su- 
perior tone and 
unequaled dura- 
bility. 

The SOHMER 
Piano is a special 
favorite with the 
leading musicians 
and critics. 


ARE AT PRESENT THE MOST POPUEAR 

AND PREFERRED BY THE LEADING ARTISTS. 

SOHMER «fc CO., Manufacturers, No. 149 to 155 E. 14th Street, N. Y. 


Munro’s Pdblications. 


The Seaside Library— Pocket Edition. 


MISS M. E. BKAl»DON’S WORKS. 


8e- 


20 

20 


85 Lkdy Indies’s 

eret 20 

66 Phantom Fortune.. 20 

74 Anrora Floyd 20 

110 Under the Red Flag 10 
158 The Golden Calf.... 20 

204 Vixen 20 

211 TheOctoroon 10 

284 Barbara; or, Splen- 
did RUery 20 

263 An Ishmaeiite 20 

816The Mistletoe 
Hough. Edited by 
Miss Braddon.... 

484 Wy Hard’* Weird.. 

478 DIavola; or, Ko. 
body’s Daughter. 

Part I 

478 Uliivola; or. No- 
body’* Daughter. 

Part II 

480 Married in Haste. 
Edited by MUs M. 

E. Braddon 

487 Pnt to the Test. 

Edited by MUs M. 

E. Braddon 20 

488 Jo«hua Haggard’s 

Daughter 20 

489 Rnpert Godwin.... 20 

495 Mount Royal 20 

496 Only a Woman. 

Edited by Miss M. 


20 


20 


20 


497 The Lady’s Mile... 20 

498 Only n t'lod 20 

499 The Cloven Foot... 20 

51 1 A Strange W'orld.. 20 

5t5 Sir Jasper’s Tenant 20 
524 Strangers and Pil- 
grims 20 

629 The Doetor’s 'Wife. 20 

512 Fenton’s Quest.... 20 
644 Cut by the County; 

nr, Grace Darnel. 10 

648 The Fatal Marriage, 

and Tlie Shadow 
in the C-orner. . . . ' 

649 Dudley Carleon, and 

George CanlOeld's 

Journey. 10 

662 Hostages toFortnne 20 

553 Birds of Prey 20 

&o4 Charlotte’s Inher* 
llnnee. (Seqnel to 
“ Birds of Prer.”) 20 
557 To the Bitter End. 20 
559 Taken at the Flood 20 

500 Asphodel 20 

561 Just ns I am; or, A 

Livine Lie 20 

667 Dead Men’s Shoes.. 20 
t»iO John Marrhmont’s 

lieeacr 20 

618 T h e Mistletoe 
B o n s h . Christ- 
mas, 1885 20 


NEW 


TABERNACLE SERMONS, 


Preached in the Brooklyn Tabernacle. 

By Key. T, BeWitt Taliiiage, l).l). 


CONTENTS: 


£. Braddon...... £0 

Any of the above works will be sent by mall, postpaid, 
on receipt of the price. Address 


GEORGE HUNRO, Monro’s Pnbiisliing House, 

P 0. Box 8751. 17 to 27 Tnndewater St., N. T. 


Brawn and Muscle. 
The Pleiades and Orion 
'he Queen’s Visit. 

\ iearious Suffering. 

Pi sthumous Opportu- 
nity. 

The Lord’s Razor. 
Window's Toward Je- 
rusalem. 

Stormed and Taken. 
All the World Akin. 

A Momentous Quest. 
The Great Assize. 

The Road to the City. 
The Ransomless. 

The Three Groups. 


'I'he Insignificant. 

The Three Rings. 

How He Came to Say 
It. 

Castle Jesus. 

Strapping the Slain. 
Sold Out. 

Summer Temptations. 
The Banished Queen. 
The Day We Live In. 
Capital and Ijabor. 
Tobacco and Opium. 
Despotism of the 
Needle. 

Why are Satan and Sin 
Permitted? 


The book will be forw'arded, postage prei- 
paid, on receipt of price, $100. Address 


GEORGE MTJNRO, 

Mnnro’s Publishing House, 
P.O.Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater St., N.Y. 





















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